


The Alliance

by tevye_cat



Series: Family, Duty, Honor [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Bigotry & Prejudice, F/M, Fire Nation Royal Family, Minor Original Character(s), Northern Water Tribe, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Politics, Ursa (Avatar) is a Good Parent, ursa is a firebender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23521984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tevye_cat/pseuds/tevye_cat
Summary: In the wake of his son's defeat at Ba Sing Se, Fire Lord Azulon sends his daughter-in-law Princess Ursa to negotiate a treaty with Chief Arnook. It is the Fire Lord's desire that his grandson Prince Zuko should marry Arnook's daughter Princess Yue, and he doesn't intend to take no for an answer. Meanwhile, his sons have their own ideas.
Relationships: Ozai/Ursa (Avatar), Yue/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Family, Duty, Honor [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692625
Comments: 114
Kudos: 326





	1. Chapter 1

Ursa sat at her vanity, brushing out her long dark hair. The golden flame of her hair ornament rested neatly in its little lacquer box on the table. She’d scrubbed the make-up from her face and dismissed her maid for the evening. Outside her window, she could see the glow of the fireflies as they winked on and off in the soft purple twilight. The breeze that fluttered the curtains was heavy with the perfume of the roses and fire-lilies that grew in her garden.  
She looked up at the sound of the door opening. Ozai’s eyes met hers in the looking glass. She held his gaze for a moment before quite deliberately setting down her brush. Eyes firmly on her vanity, she reached for a glass jar, unscrewed the top, and began rubbing moisturizer into her hands. _Let him be the first to speak. How could he be so cold-hearted? Showing off our daughter like a prize Komodo-rhino while he completely ignores our son. And not for the first time. _  
__Ursa replaced the moisturizer lid. She slowly straightened her already neat things: tortoiseshell comb, silver-backed brush, hairpins, sticks of kohl and pots of rouge and lipstick. She did not look at Ozai once, though she could feel the expectant weight of his gaze. Minutes passed in silence, and she was starting to rise from her stool when Ozai said, “I spoke to my father.”  
She sat back down and looked at her husband in the mirror. Ozai hadn’t moved from the door, and a scowl darkened his entire face. “He has refused to give me my birthright.”  
Ursa turned around to face him. “What do you mean, refused you your birthright?”  
“He has refused to name me as his heir. Iroh is an old man, and now, with his son dead and the siege at Ba Sing Se abandoned, he is a broken man without a bloodline, without a legacy. He is a failure and unfit to lead this great nation to its destiny.” Ozai’s eyes practically glowed with fury. “I am young, and I am here. My daughter is the most gifted firebending prodigy in years, maybe even since Sozin himself, and my father still sees fit to deny me!”  
Ursa’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You actually asked the Fire Lord to disinherit your brother? Right after Lu Ten was killed in combat? What were you thinking?”  
Ozai stalked over to the vanity and grabbed her arm. “I just told you—”  
Ursa jerked her arm from his grasp and crossed the room. “Yes, I heard you! How could you be so callous? Your brother has just lost his son! Have some compassion. How would you feel if Zuko or Azula were killed?”  
Her husband said nothing, but his fists were clenched in anger, and Ursa thought she saw faint wisps of smoke. She took a deep breath, and forced herself to speak in a calm, measured voice. “Something else must have happened. You wouldn’t be so upset otherwise.”  
“You want to know what else happened? You want to know what _my father, the Fire Lord of this nation_ said to me?” His voice became lower and more hateful sounding with every word. “He wants my son to marry a barbarian. He would pollute the bloodline of the Fire Nation royal family, directly chosen by Agni himself, with a filthy, uncultured Water Tribe girl.”  
She furrowed her brow in confusion. “Why would he do that?”  
“Because he wishes to shame me! He would never, ever think of doing such a thing to his precious Iroh!” Tiny flames sparked brightly at Ozai’s fingertips. “Our wise and honorable Fire Lord has decided in light of the massive loss at Ba Sing Se that he wishes to completely conquer the Water Tribes. The Southern Water Tribe is practically destroyed already. All that is left of their civilization is a few hovels scattered about the South Pole. The settlements can’t even be properly called villages, and their last waterbender was killed. It is likely they will all die out within a few generations.  
“The Northern Water Tribe has removed themselves from world affairs, thinking we will forget about them. We haven’t forgotten them, but they remain a great and formidable city. It would be difficult and cost the lives of many Fire Nation soldiers to conquer the city via siege.”  
“Not to mention how expensive such a campaign would be,” Ursa said as she sat on the edge of her bed. She leaned against one of the carved wooden posts. “I assume the northern chief has a daughter.”  
Ozai sat on Ursa’s vanity stool. He nodded. “A daughter of an age with Zuko, as it happens. Princess Yue.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “As if you could call a savage dressed in skins who lives on an ice block a princess.”  
Ursa let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and ran a hand through her hair. “Well, if we can manage to arrange a marriage with the Water Tribe it wouldn’t be the worst thing. It’s actually far preferable to throwing away soldiers’ lives for a frozen wasteland when they’d be more useful protecting the colonies and our resources there.”  
“You can’t possibly be serious.”  
“Yes, I am completely serious.” Ozai frowned at her, and she glared right back at him. “It’s not what I would have chosen. If it was up to me, I would have chosen someone like Azula’s little friend Mai. Good family, excellent manners, well-educated. But you know, children don’t always heed their parents’ wishes.”  
She certainly hadn’t. Her parents had wanted her to marry the son of a minor noble. She would have had a boring, comfortable life in the country with a boring, comfortable man. His name had been Yan. Or was it Chan? She couldn’t remember now. That had been a lifetime ago, before a devastatingly handsome prince had taken an interest in her. Before she’d felt that spark of attraction; before she’d fallen in love. Before they’d drifted apart after twelve years of marriage and two children. _ _  
__“Do you have a point, dear wife?”  
“Just that I am a humble and obedient subject of the Fire Nation. If the Fire Lord wishes this marriage, then I shall do everything I can to make sure it happens.” Ursa rose from the bed and crossed the room to her changing screen. It was made of cherry wood with elaborately painted silk panels featuring dancing dragons, soaring phoenixes, and prancing kirins. When she finally emerged wearing a robe of pale pink silk, she was surprised to find Ozai still sitting on the vanity stool.  
She watched him for a moment, not sure of what else to say. What does he want? He must want something, or he would have left by now. And then she realized, this wasn’t her husband in her room, not really. He was a stranger to her. When was the last time she’d felt truly close with this man? When Azula was a toddler.  
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”  
She startled at the sound of his voice. “What?”  
“I said, I’m leaving tomorrow.”  
“Leaving?” she asked. “Why?”  
“I’m going to capture the avatar.” He said it as if it were a fact, the way another man might say he were going to Ember Island on holiday.  
It was absolutely the last thing Ursa expected to hear. “You’re going to capture the avatar?” she scoffed. “A man no one has seen for one hundred years? Where would you even begin to look? Three generations of Fire Lords have searched, and all in vain. They found nothing, not even a trace.”  
There was a flicker of hurt and vulnerability in his golden eyes. For a moment he was the boy who lived in the shadow of his accomplished, much older brother. He was the boy who yearned for his father’s attention and approval. For his father’s love. He was the young man with grand ambitions and dreams of glory. He was the man Ursa had fallen in love with.  
And in a heartbeat, it was gone. His face hardened into a mask of fury and he leapt off the stool. Quick as lightning he slapped her hard across the face.  
Ursa cried out in pain and touched her palm to her left cheek. She could feel the raised outline of his fingers against her hand. Then his other hand grabbed her by the hair and she lost her footing. He tugged her upright by the hair until her face was nearly level with his own. She could feel some of the fine dark strands pulling away from her scalp. And for the first time in her life, when she looked at her husband, she felt afraid. _ _  
__“You’ve never been an obedient citizen of the Fire Nation,” he snarled in her face. “You were never loyal to the Fire Lord, your entire family are nothing but a bunch of traitors, starting with your great-grandfather.”  
Now she was angry, and she could feel steam coming from her nostrils as she jerked her entire body away from him. She fell into a heap onto the finely woven rug, and the sleeve of her robe tore where he tried to keep hold of her. “Traitors?” She climbed to her feet. “My great-grandfather was the avatar, so now my entire family are traitors? One of the oldest lines of nobility, that has married into the royal family seven times, are all traitors?  
“My parents have fulfilled every necessary duty for Fire Lord and country. Both of my siblings serve in our navy. And even if my family could be accused of any sort of disloyalty, I have been nothing but a good and dutiful wife to you.”  
“A good wife? _You think you have been a good wife?_ You’ve never believed in me. You don’t want me to succeed. You take my brother’s side over my own, and you don’t want the avatar captured,” he insisted. “You didn’t want me to go looking for him years ago, and you don’t want me to go now.” His handsome face was twisted with fury.  
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “The first time you wanted to go, you were eighteen years old with only a single ship. Your own father didn’t want to see you go. He wanted you close to home with Iroh being gone on the war front. And the second time, I was pregnant with your son. I wanted you to be with us. I wanted us to be a family, Ozai.” She gently placed her hand on his. She had persuaded him to stay home before, maybe she could do it again. Maybe it wasn’t too late for them and she could still salvage her girlhood dreams of love and a happy family. Maybe they could still work together to change the future of their country, the way they used to talk about.  
“No one has seen the avatar in one hundred years,” she said in a low, soothing voice. “It’s because he’s gone, Ozai. He was killed by your great-grandfather Sozin when the Air Nomads were defeated. Don’t waste your life on this foolish quest.”  
He pulled his hand away. “Foolish? I am foolish? I am too foolish to be the Fire Lord, but my failure of a brother, who abandons his duties at Ba Sing Se, is fit to be our father’s heir? My brother, who wastes time on tea and music and worthless idle pursuits, is worth more than me? I’ve worked harder than he ever has. I have far more discipline; I mastered lightning at age sixteen after two years of work and toil. But because he had the good fortune to be born first, all of my labors are for nothing? I do not accept that. Iroh is an old man, nearly sixty. He has no children and no legacy. He is not fit to lead this nation into a new era, but I am. And I’m going to prove it.”  
He shoved her into the vanity. It rocked to the side and her things slid onto the floor. The painted changing screen cracked the mirror before landing on the floor with a clatter. A lit candle was knocked from its holder and burned her hand where it fell on her before going out and rolling away. Ozai loomed over her where she lay on the floor, burned and bruised. “And no one, not my father, not my treasonous snake of a wife, no one is going to deny me what is rightfully mine.”  
Ursa pulled herself up. It took all of her self-control not to spit in Ozai’s face. “You’re the one who talks of treason. You’re the second-born child. You are not the crown prince. You were never meant to rule this nation. You were meant to support your brother in his role as Fire Lord. The fact that you cannot accept that, the fact that you are willing to defy your Fire Lord, is the only treason here. I have always been a faithful wife. I have always wanted to see you succeed and become the best version of yourself. You are talented and ambitious. You could have been a valued asset to your brother and your nation. You may even get what you want, eventually.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
Ursa’s mouth quirked ever so slightly into a sardonic smile. “You’re right about one thing. Your brother Iroh is not a young man, and now that Lu Ten has tragically been killed, he has no children. That makes you your brother’s heir. You are so blinded by jealousy and the need to prove yourself to Fire Lord Azulon that you can’t see it.”  
She thought he might consider her words. Then his mouth tightened into a thin line and he turned abruptly toward the door. “I’m leaving an hour before the sunrise.” His voice was calm, and his face was serene. It was as if he’d donned a mask. Was all of the hate and rage his real face? Was the charming man she’d married simply a disguise?  
“What about the children?”  
“What about them?”  
“Aren’t you going to say good-bye to them? Explain where you’re going?” she sputtered.  
“I don’t see why I should explain anything to them.” He wrinkled his nose slightly, as if he found the very idea distasteful.  
“Ozai, you’re their father!” Ursa stood up and hurried toward him. “You can’t just disappear. What are they supposed to think when they wake up and you’re not there? Who knows how long you’ll be gone? They’ll think you’ve abandoned them.”  
“Lengthy good-byes would just delay my start,” he said as he stepped into the hallway, “and I’ve no wish to subject myself to tears and childish questions. You may inform them I’ve gone to bring honor and glory to our family and our nation.”  
 _He doesn’t care for them at all,_ she thought. _Maybe he’s proud of them if their accomplishments reflect well on him, or maybe he’s fond of in the way people like their dogs, but he doesn’t love them. He won’t miss them at all._ Was this the way he’d always been? Surely she couldn’t have been so blind.  
Ozai smiled a cruel little smile. “Besides, I won’t be gone long. This coward’s ninety-four years of hiding are over.”  
He shut the door. Ursa could hear his boots echoing down the polished floor of the hallway. She sank to the floor in a heap and sobbed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey north begins, and Prince Zuko and Princess Azula are not getting along.

It had taken Ursa three months to make the arrangements for her journey north. Messenger hawks had been sent to the chief of the Northern Water Tribe. A dozen ships had been pulled off of their regular assignments and been assembled into a fleet to accompany Princess Ursa and her two children, in addition to their servants and tutors.

She could have left them behind, of course, but she was reluctant to leave them for an extended period of time after their father had performed his selfish stunt. True to his word, he’d been gone before the dawn, and hadn’t spoken a word to anyone, not even his royal father.

Fire Lord Azulon seemed to feel that his younger son’s behavior was akin to a temper tantrum. When Ursa had told him where Ozai had gone, he’d waved his hand dismissively and said, “Ozai’s always been prone to dramatics when he doesn’t get his way.” Then he’d asked her what she’d thought of no less than four young noblewomen. Did she think any of them suitable to be Prince Iroh’s new bride?

Ursa had smiled uncomfortably at the sudden change in subject. She’d said in her sweetest voice that she was unworthy to offer an opinion on the matter, but she was certain Prince Iroh would be delighted to select a wife on his return from the Earth Kingdom. Then she’d suddenly remembered some scrolls on the north pole and its climate she wanted to read, and excused herself as gracefully as possible.

Prince Iroh _still_ hadn’t come home when Ursa and the children had set sail. And no one seemed to know where he was. His subordinates said he’d gone off on his own somewhere in the western Earth Kingdom. Ordinarily it would take perhaps a month to reach the ocean from Ba Sing Se, and another week to enter Fire Nation waters. But mired in grief and shame and guilt, who could say how long it would be before the Dragon of the West returned home. Losing a child was a terrible thing, everyone agreed, especially for a man like Iroh who’d been such a devoted father. Somehow, Ursa didn’t think Prince Iroh would be as amenable to remarriage and siring new heirs as the Fire Lord hoped. 

She breathed in the salty sea air. She was relieved not to be in the palace right now. _Agni, please let Fire Lord Azulon and his son reunite before we return to Caldera City._ They had practically crawled up the coast, making frequent stops. None of them had ever been to the colonies before, and Ursa was enjoying the freedom that came from traveling without her husband. It was nice being the most senior royal for a change.

They were currently in a spa town on the rocky coast of the northern colonies. The cherry trees were just beginning to bud, and the breeze held a promise of warmer days to come.

“Mom! Mom!”

Ursa turned to see Zuko running towards her. “Mom, look what I found!”

She picked her way over tangles of seaweed and wet pebbles left exposed by high tide, careful to avoid the tidepools. Zuko thrust a basket towards her. “Oh, how lovely!” she exclaimed. Nestled inside the basket were seven seashells, each one different. One was cream colored, long and twisted. There was an orange swirled shell with a pearly finish, a huge purple conch, and a broad pink fan-shaped one with red stripes. There was a dull gray oyster shell had a gorgeous pearl sheen inside, and an intricately curved shell of palest orange inside and bright pink inside. The largest and most beautiful shell was white, lined with spines that almost looked like ruffles marching down the sides. Inside it was the color of woodsmoke, a muted blue-gray.

“Did you find all of these yourself on the beach?” she asked as she examined them.

He grinned with pride. “Yes, there’s lots of shells if you look carefully. Sometimes you can even find starfish or sea urchins in the pools, but you have to be careful not to prick your finger.” Zuko pointed to the white shell. “I even found another shell like this, but better. None of the spines were chipped or worn down like this one.”

She could see a few imperfections in the shell, places broken or worn too smooth by the waves. “What happened to the other shell?”

He frowned. “It got broken,” he mumbled. After a moment he smiled brightly again. “You can have this one, Mom,” he said, placing the pink and orange shell in her hand.

“Thank you.” She pulled him into a one-armed hug and ruffled his dark hair. “Will you carry it in your basket for me?”

He nodded. “Do you think Uncle Iroh would like this purple one? It’s not as good as the dagger he sent me, but…”

“I’m sure Uncle Iroh will love it,” Ursa assured him. “He’ll be pleased you thought of him.”

Farther down the shoreline, Ursa could see the bright orange flashes of Azula’s fire. She was practicing high jumps and kicks. Even with Ozai gone, Azula was still determined to be her father’s little prodigy. Ursa wished she wouldn’t push herself so hard.

Ursa couldn’t help but worry about her daughter. She’d done a lot of thinking since Ozai had come to her with his ridiculous plan. Azula’s comments about her grandfather, uncle, and cousin were still disturbing to her, but she no longer wondered what was wrong with her child. It was quite plain to her now. Her precious baby girl was being unduly influenced by her father, and she herself had been too blind to notice.

Ursa had been so focused on their son, so determined to shield him from his father’s disapproval and to build up his self-esteem and praise him for his hard work, that she had neglected her daughter in the process. Azula had always been strong, she’d always been so talented and so valued by her father that it had seemed at times to Ursa that her daughter didn’t really need her. Not the way Zuko did.

How wrong she’d been. She had allowed her husband to twist their child and corrupt her impressionable young mind. He’d used the thirst for approval that both of her children shared. Ursa could see that now.

Well, Ozai was gone now. Ursa had been granted a second chance, thank Agni, and she was determined to use it. Eight years old was still young, she could still show her daughter that she was of value for herself, not just her skills. Ursa could show her how much her family loved her, and that her father’s ways were wrong.

Wistfully, she looked out over the sea. It made her a bad wife, but she couldn’t help but hope that Ozai would just stay gone and abandon them all. They would be happier without him, she thought. _Ursa_ would be happier without him. She hadn’t really noticed, but she supposed now that they hadn’t been in love for a long time.

Zuko squeezed her hand. His big golden eyes looked at her with concern. They were the exact shape and color as his father’s eyes. The resemblance ended there. Zuko’s eyes were innocent, and kind, and so trusting. She could never remember Ozai looking like that.

“Mom, are you okay?”

She smiled at him and stroked his hair. “I’m fine, darling. Let’s go get your sister, and we can go inside for some dinner.” Ursa put her arm around her son as they walked. She was grateful her foolishness hadn’t harmed her son. The spirits had at least spared her that.

Azula wasn’t firebending anymore. Now she was practicing handstands on a broad flat rock. As they passed, she wobbled a moment, then managed to steady herself. She held it for about ten more seconds before her arms buckled and she collapsed. Even so, she was able to tuck in her head and roll out of position before drawing herself upright.

“I can tell you’re working hard, Azula. You’ve improved so much,” Ursa praised her.

Azula glared at them. Then she spotted her brother’s basket. “Still collecting useless seashells?” She laughed. “I suppose you like them because they’re like you.” She darted over to Zuko, snatched the basket, and clambered back onto her rock.

“Azula! Give those back, they’re mine!”

“No, I won’t! Come and get them if you want them so badly,” she taunted.

Ursa started toward the rock. “Young lady, you apologize to your brother. That is no way to talk to somebody else, and you know better than to take things that don’t belong to you.”

Azula’s face contorted with anger. Zuko lunged toward her, and she tossed the shells out of the basket and onto the rocks. He managed to catch the ruffled white shell and the long twisted one, but the purple conch lost its pointed end, and the orange shell he’d chosen for Ursa shattered.

“Azula, why do you ruin everything?” he yelled. “You already smashed my best shell. You’re the worst sister ever, and I wish you didn’t come with us!”

For a brief second Azula looked hurt. Then in the blink of an eye, her expression hardened and she whirled around and ran towards their cabin, crushing the oyster shell and the fan-shaped shell to dust beneath her boot.

Ursa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pressing her fingers to her forehead. She opened her eyes to see Zuko had collected what shells could be salvaged and was glaring in the direction of the cabin. “Zuko, I know it’s hard sometimes, but please try to be nice to your sister.”

“But Mom, she—”

“I know,” Ursa interrupted. “I know she can make it difficult sometimes, but we need to be loving towards each other. It’s a hard time for our family right now, with Lu Ten’s passing and Dad being gone, so it’s important that we stick together and support each other.”

He was looking at his feet, and Ursa wasn’t quite sure if he was listening to her. Gently, she placed her hand under his chin and lifted his face so that she could look into his eyes. “You’ve always had such a kind heart. Some people might view that as a weakness, but it’s not. It’s an incredible strength.” She kissed the top of his head. “All I’m asking is for you to show some of that kindness to your sister. Be patient with her. You’re the older brother, and it’s up to you to set an example.”

Zuko pulled away from her and wrinkled his nose. “Okay, I’ll try,” he huffed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chief Arnook receives unsettling news.

These were troubling times. Nearly eighty years had gone by with no contact between the Northern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation, and now Chief Arnook had received a hawk carrying a message sealed by Fire Lord Azulon himself. Some how word had gotten out that Arnook had a daughter almost precisely the same age as the Fire Lord’s grandson.

It had been foolish to continue to trade with the Earth Kingdom. Once a year, a few Water Tribe ships would sail to northern Earth Kingdom shores, in areas that were free of Fire Nation control. He’d thought they were being cautious, but obviously not if gossip had spread far enough that the Fire Lord was aware of Princess Yue.

And because of that carelessness, Fire Lord Azulon was sending his daughter-in-law Princess Ursa to negotiate a peace treaty between their two great nations. A treaty that just happened to hinge upon a marriage between the Fire Nation prince and Arnook’s beloved only child.

That in itself was a message, Arnook knew. Azulon sending a woman to lead any sort of negotiations could only be seen as an insult. He must see the task of dealing with the Water Tribe as being beneath a man, or he would have sent the boy’s father. Everyone knew marriages were arranged by the children’s fathers. And negotiations were _most_ _certainly_ led by men. Women might be permitted to sit on such councils, but they were expected to remain quiet.

Arnook stood on a balcony on the upper level of his palace. His city was spread out below, a vast sprawling metropolis that stretched toward the great blue ocean dotted with icebergs lying in wait to reduce unwary ships to splinters.

Well over one thousand years ago there was no city here at all. The Water Tribe had been a sea-faring, semi-nomadic people living in small groups scattered across the North Pole. Nothing was here except for the spirit oasis. That had always been; even before the first man and the first woman, who were their ancestors, had emerged from the world under the sea. Then those ancient Water Tribe people had built a shrine here, to honor the ocean and moon spirits, the sources of life and strength.

The sea around the oasis was full of life-sustaining animals: fish, shellfish, seals, and whales. Soon it was a thriving village known as Utuqaq. That village grew and grew, and seven hundred years ago became a city. A city that grew to become the seat of the Water Tribe government, unified under a single chief, as well as the center of spirituality. There were many smaller towns and villages, but as Utuqaq grew, a number of them became absorbed by the city.

Eighty years ago, when Arnook’s own great-grandfather had been chief, the Fire Nation attacked. Many small villages were destroyed and hundreds came to Utuqaq seeking safety.

Attacks had been made on the capital as well, but they hadn’t succeeded. The waterbenders and warriors had sunk the metal ships and drowned the soldiers in their heavy armor. A few had even been taken prisoner and locked in the ice cells to die of exposure. Those that were left had quickly retreated south. Still, it had been a costly victory. Many of their people had been killed.

It was then that Great-Grandfather had decided that the Water Tribe would come together as one large city-state. Utuqaq was already protected by high natural ice walls on three sides; it was easy to build a fourth. A system of locks controlled by waterbenders had been constructed to serve as the entrance, and all outlying settlements had been abandoned.

The Northern Tribe had banded together and isolated themselves in their walled city of ice on the top of the world. No one came to the North Pole, and very few people left it. They were uninterested in the rest of the world. Except for a few fur traders, Arnook had thought the rest of the world uninterested in them. And now the Fire Nation was on their doorstep again.

Arnook sighed and went inside. He walked down two flights of stairs to the fourth floor where his family’s living quarters were. He lifted the hide door to the common room. His wife Ummi was sitting on a pelt on the floor, embroidering a pair of mittens by a seal oil lamp. Her brown hair shone in the lamplight.

“Where’s Princess Yue?” he asked her.

“She’s having lessons at the moment. Poetry, I believe.” She kept on sewing an intricate pattern of ocean waves. “Are you still brooding?”

“I’m not brooding,” he grumbled.

“Oh, yes you are. You only stand on the top balcony gazing at the horizon when you’re brooding. I don’t know why you’re even considering this offer; it’s an insult. They think they can just demand our daughter, and we will go along with it. Well, it may have escaped the Fire Nation’s notice, but we’re getting along just fine the way we are. We don’t need a peace treaty with them.”

“It’s not that I’m considering it,” Arnook said. “I’m worried. If the Fire Nation were to attack us, I am not certain that we would win. Our people haven’t seen a conflict for eighty years. And even if we did win, how many of our ships would they burn? What damage would they do to our city? How many lives would be lost?”

Arnook sank to the floor beside her and put his head in his hands. “Would we be able to rebuild before winter? Would we still have access to the fishing grounds? Or would we be surrounded, trapped within the walls?” _Why?_ Why had the Fire Nation come north again? How naïve to think they’d been forgotten.

Ummi didn’t even look up from her work when she spoke. “Arnook, you are my husband and the chief of my tribe.” The carved stone of her engagement necklace flashed in the lamplight as she paused to thread her needle with a different shade of blue. “You are the head of our people, as well as the head of my family. But if you give away my daughter, I will never forgive you.”

Arnook closed his eyes and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He would have to move forward cautiously. There was too much at stake to be hasty. He got to his feet.

“I’m going to check on the princess.” He bent down to kiss Ummi’s hair before leaving the room. Ummi allowed the contact, but he didn’t miss the fierce look in her blue eyes as she watched him go.

Yue didn’t notice him come in at first. She was busy grinding her ink stick in the stone dish. Drop by drop, she added water until it reached the correct consistency, then mixed it carefully so as not to spill. The princess dipped her brush into the ink and began writing the characters with smooth, elegant strokes. She was completely focused on her work, the look on her face intent.

Arnook was content to simply watch her work. She was the light of his life, his most precious girl.

He and Ummi had begun to fear that they might never have a child, and then Yue was born. So beautiful, but so quiet and still. Babies were supposed to cry when they were born, but she never made a sound.

For hours, the healers had tried everything they could to save the newborn, but nothing had worked. Arnook could still remember the fear and helplessness he’d felt as he watched them work, unable to do anything.

Finally, Yugoda had come to tell the new parents that their daughter was going to die. Ummi had clutched onto him and wept. Desperate, he’d taken the baby to the spirit pond and placed her in the water as he pleaded with the ocean and moon spirits to save his child.

Her cry was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Relief had washed over him. _The spirits had heard his prayer._ Arnook hadn’t even noticed Ummi and Yugoda had followed him until Ummi gathered their child into her arms.

Tears were streaming down her face. “She’s alive,” she’d whispered. “Oh, my baby girl, she’s _alive_.”

Yugoda had looked the child over, and declared that she would live. He’d never felt more joyous. He remembered reaching out to touch her soft hair, turned a brilliant white.

“Look, Arnook,” Ummi had said, “the moon spirit has given her life. We will call her Yue.”

The moon spirit had indeed given Yue a second chance at life, and Arnook and Ummi the chance to raise a child. Why had they been granted such a gift? Was it to waste her on some fire-breathing savage?

Yue’s face lit up when she noticed her father. She smiled broadly at him, and was halfway out of her seat when she remembered her manners. She turned to her tutor. “May I please be excused, Master Panruk?”

Master Panruk nodded. “You may, Princess.”

Yue ran towards Arnook and threw her arms around his middle. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Can’t a father just come see his daughter?” he teased. “Must he need a reason?” Arnook put her arm around her as they walked outside.

She giggled. “No, but usually if you pull me from a lesson early, it’s because you have a reason.”

“What if I just wanted to spend time with my favorite girl?” He tickled her under the arms like he used to do when she was little and made her laugh until she was breathless. The sound was contagious, and soon he found he was laughing, too. She pulled away and promptly fell into a snowbank, but not without tugging his arm so that he fell as well.

Arnook wrapped his arms around his daughter, tucking her head beneath his chin. She smelled like ink and parchment and cool ocean breezes and so faintly of the grass in the spirit oasis. He wouldn’t tell her anything yet, he decided. Why should he burden his daughter with horrible news that may not even come to pass? Arnook sighed deeply.

Yue tilted her head to look at his face. “Papa, is something wrong?” Her parka was covered in a fine dusting of snow, and her light blue eyes were filled with concern.

Arnook stood up and helped his daughter to her feet. “Nothing’s wrong, darling.” He brushed the snow from her hair and skirts.

Yue frowned and raised one eyebrow in disbelief. She looked just like her mother. The thought made him smile sadly.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated. “Come on, we should go inside before you catch a chill.”

She groaned at that. “I’m fine, Papa. I’m not going to get sick from a little playing.”

Now it was his turn to frown. “Yue, you know your mother and I don’t like you taking risks with your health. It’s only early spring; when it stays lighter longer you may stay outside for greater lengths.”

“Of course, Papa,” she said quietly. “You’re right.”

“We can play pai sho,” he offered. “And maybe we can have some snacks, too.”

Yue perked up. “Seal jerky?”

Arnook pretended to think about it. “I might be able to find some seal jerky.”

They had reached the steps of the palace when Yue spoke again. “Is Hahn playing pai sho, too?”

Arnook stopped in his tracks. That was unexpected. He and Ummi had arranged opportunities for Yue to socialize with a few appropriate boys over the past year or so, to help aide them in choosing their future son-in-law. He was unaware that Yue herself had any sort of preference in the matter.

“I didn’t know you liked Hahn,” he said.

Yue kept walking up the steps. “Oh, I don’t really like Hahn particularly much,” she said as casually as if she were discussing the weather, “but it’s fun to play pai sho with him because I almost always win.”

Arnook couldn’t think of anything to say to that. That certainly didn’t sound like his sweet little princess.

“What an unladylike thing to say.” Ummi had appeared at the palace entrance. Her eyebrow was raised and her arms were crossed over her chest.

Yue’s cheeks colored slightly, and she suddenly seemed fascinated with the hem of her dress.

“A gracious princess doesn’t find joy in others’ shortcomings,” Ummi went on. “She may do her best, but she is always sweet and kind. Hahn is a fine young man from an important family. The kind of boy you will marry someday.” Ummi shot a pointed look in Arnook’s direction.

He hurried up the rest of the steps and placed a hand on Yue’s shoulder. “Your mother’s right. There is nothing wrong with being a better player than someone else, but it is very unkind to revel in it. As a princess of the Water Tribe, you must remain focused on community and family, not on the individual self. That is how our people have managed not only to survive, but to thrive.”

Yue nodded her head. “I’m sorry; I didn’t think of it like that,” she said.

Ummi smiled. “That’s my girl. Now, let’s see if you can beat Papa in a game of pai sho.” She grinned and hugged Yue tight.

“Can we still have seal jerky?”

Ummi laughed. “I think we can manage some seal jerky, yes.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula and her mother have a talk.

Azula slammed the door, then kicked it for good measure. Twice. It wasn’t fair! How could Dad just leave her behind like this? She could help him capture the avatar; she knew it!

She could understand why he wouldn’t want Zuko to come; Zuko was a failure and a disappointment. But Azula was special. She was a prodigy. Everyone said so. She understood battle tactics, she was quick and clever. She could do anything he needed. She’d even be a perfect scout or look-out if Dad didn’t want to risk her getting hurt in the middle of the action.

She growled in frustration. Mom didn’t understand. Mom had never understood her. She’d always been too busy with Zuko. Why did people like Zuko, anyway? He wasn’t special. He was nothing. Not like her. Azula deserved peoples’ admiration. She was talented and driven. Dad had even promised that someday, when she was ready, he’d teach her to conjure lightning. Who knew if she’d ever get the chance to learn now? She was sure Mom would never allow it.

She growled again, small flames surrounding her fingertips, then flopped onto her bed and covered her face with her pillow.

Azula heard a soft knock on the door. “Azula? Azula, are you in here?” Her mother’s voice was gentle.

She could hear quiet footsteps, but she rolled over so her body faced away from the door. The mattress dipped where her mother sat down. Azula ignored her.

They sat like this for a while, not moving or speaking. Azula could hear the wind in the trees outside, and in the distance, the waves breaking against the rocky shore. Eventually she had to take her pillow off of her face so that she could breathe.

Mother ran her fingers through Azula’s hair. Azula closed her eyes. _She can pet my hair all she wants. I don’t care. It doesn’t change anything._

“Azula, sweetheart, you can’t just—”

She jerked her body away from her mother’s soothing touch. “Don’t bother!” she snapped. “I already know what you’re going to say.”

“What am I going to say?” Mom said in a puzzled voice.

Azula sat up. “You’re going to say ‘you can’t treat your brother like that. We don’t act like that. We don’t take other peoples’ things; we don’t break things that aren’t ours’.” Her dark amber eyes shone with anger.

Mom sighed. “Yes, I was going to say that,” she murmured.

“Ha! I knew it! You always say the same thing.”

“But,” Mom continued, tucking a lock of hair behind Azula’s ear, “I was also going to say that I know you’re acting out because you miss Dad. You’re angry and hurt, and probably confused.”

She slapped her mother’s hand away. “Don’t lie! Don’t pretend like you care!”

Mom looked at her with big sad eyes full of tears. “Of course I care. You’re my daughter.”

“No, you don’t. You only care about dumb Zuko. You’re always spending time with him. You never pay any attention to me. I performed advanced forms perfectly for Grandfather, and you didn’t say anything. Zuko fell on his big dumb butt like a loser, and you practically trip all over yourself to tell him how great he is! It’s not fair! Why did you even bring me here if you don’t care about me?” She felt like crying, but she pushed the feeling deep down inside. Crying never helped.

Mom took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Azula. You were wonderful. You always are. You’re a very talented firebender. It’s true that your brother isn’t as talented as you are. He has to work very hard at bending.

“You know, everyone is always praising your gifts and abilities, and Zuko receives very little. I want to encourage him. I didn’t think you needed that from me, but I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Azula crossed her arms and looked out of the window. _She doesn’t mean it. She just feels guilty that I noticed Zuko’s her favorite._ The thought sounded a little bit like Dad.

Mom kept talking. “I would never leave you behind, Azula. I love you. Grandfather and Uncle Iroh and Zuko love you, too.”

Azula rolled her eyes, but Mom didn’t notice.

“Zuko gets angry with you because sometimes you can be very unkind. I don’t think you really mean it, but you’re a very driven and competitive little girl. Not everything needs to be about being the best, though.

“It’s okay to come in second place, or even last. It’s okay to fail at something because you can always pick yourself up and try again.

“You don’t need to earn love, Azula. It’s enough just to be yourself. Zuko would want to spend time with you if you showed more kindness and patience. It’s okay to just play and have fun. You’re only eight years old, you should enjoy being a child.”

Azula sneaked a glance at her mother from the corner of her eye. She was smiling softly at Azula. She looked like she meant it. Come to think of it, Mom had been paying more attention to her since Dad left. She’d showed up to her firebending lessons, and she’d been talking to her math and history instructors, too. Mom had even said that her cultural education was lacking, and had insisted on adding music lessons on the guzheng and painting to her curriculum.

The guzheng was big and beautiful, and it was really hard to play. It was difficult for Azula to get the silk strings to produce a sound that her teacher could hear. After she’d snapped the third string, he’d complained to her mother. _The princess’s touch isn’t delicate enough._ Mom had looked right at him and said that the princess was fine, but perhaps her teacher had failed to demonstrate the technique correctly.

When Azula had told Mother that music was stupid, she’d simply placed a hand on Azula’s shoulder. She told Azula that music wasn’t stupid, it was an important part of Fire Nation culture, and didn’t she want to be a well-rounded young lady? Besides, if she just worked hard and applied herself, she could do it.

But it was hard not to get discouraged when she was _still_ working on scales and basic exercises, and Zuko had moved onto real songs on his tsungi horn. Mom must have noticed that, too, because she’d asked Azula if she’d rather switch to the pan or pipa instead. But if Azula picked a different instrument, that would mean the guzheng would have beaten her, and nothing had _ever_ beaten Azula. If she had to be forced to play an instrument, she didn’t want to play something else. She’d chosen it, and she kept at it, even though she hated practicing.

Mom touched Azula’s face again, and this time she closed her eyes and allowed it. Maybe Mom did care about her, but Zuko was still her favorite. She just knew he was. _She probably just feels guilty. She might even be the reason Dad left me here._ Azula pushed that thought away. She didn’t want that to be true. She wanted all the nice things Mom was saying to be real. Mom moved closer to where Azula sat on her bed, and put her arm around her.

Azula leaned into her mother and thought about the other things she’d said. Zuko probably would play with her more if she was nicer to him. He was a big dumb-dumb and didn’t really have any friends. Sometimes Mai wanted to play with Zuko, but she was Azula’s friend. Zuko couldn’t have _her_ friend.

Mai and Ty Lee weren’t here now. They were far away, back home in the Fire Nation, and who knew how long it would take Mother to finish the Fire Lord’s business in the North Pole. Maybe she could be just a little nicer to Zuko. For now, just until they went back home. Not because she was lonely or because she did kind of like him sometimes. No, she would play with him because he was her only choice, and when she was back with her friends, she’d drop him.

Grandfather cared about her, she supposed. It was only natural for the Fire Lord to care about his heirs, after all. She knew he was fond of Uncle, and he’d been proud of Lu Ten, but he’d never really been close with her or her brother. Azula couldn’t remember ever actually having a conversation with Grandfather, but he was so old that she really didn’t care that much. Mom may not have wanted to hear it, but someone would probably end up taking his place soon, even if that someone was Uncle Iroh instead of Dad.

She frowned. Mom was wrong about Uncle Iroh, though. He definitely liked Zuko better than her.

“Azula?”

She pulled away and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Uncle doesn’t love me,” she said quietly.

“Of course Uncle loves you.”

She shook her head.

“No, he doesn’t,” she insisted, “or he wouldn’t have sent me that dumb doll. Who cares about a doll with an ugly Earth Kingdom dress? He should have sent something good, like that dagger that Zuzu got.”

Mother actually laughed at that. Softly, almost under her breath, but she still laughed. How dare she find this funny?

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mom said once she’d stifled her laughter, “that doesn’t mean Uncle Iroh doesn’t love you. He just doesn’t know you very well, that’s all.”

Azula just looked at her. What did she mean, Uncle Iroh didn’t know her very well? They’d lived in the same palace her whole life.

“Uncle’s been away from home for over two years. The last time he saw you was when you were six,” Mom explained. “You’ve grown up and changed a lot since then, but Uncle Iroh hasn’t been here to see it. To him, you’re still the little girl with the missing front teeth who built sandcastles and carried her doll everywhere.”

Azula leapt to her feet. “Ai was nothing like that silly thing he sent! Ai was a general! She conquered Earth Kingdom provinces and wore armor and a battle helmet, not some frilly useless dress. She wasn’t a fashion doll.” Azula’s eyes flashed indignantly. How dare Mother suggest that the doll she’d burned had been comparable to Ai? She was too old for dolls now, but she still kept Ai in a carved cedar box on a shelf in her wardrobe. That silly Earth Kingdom creature had deserved no such place of honor.

Azula turned to face Mom, who quickly schooled her face and dropped her hands from her mouth to her lap. “You’re right, of course. Ai was a very fierce brave leader. And the other doll was frilly and silly. But to an older man with a grown-up son like Uncle Iroh, they were both just dolls. I promise you he didn’t get you an inferior gift on purpose, Azula. It was very thoughtful of Uncle to send the two of you something.”

Azula thought about this for a moment. Uncle _was_ old. And he was kind of lazy sometimes, so he probably hadn’t thought very hard about her gift. He also liked a lot of silly things like special blends of tea and shopping and pai sho. It really wasn’t very dignified for a crown prince.

She furrowed her brow. “But Zuko got a knife. Why couldn’t I get a knife?” Azula hated how childish she sounded, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

Mom stood up and gave her a quick hug. “Oh honey, I know it doesn’t seem fair.” She smoothed Azula’s messy hair. After a few moments she said, “I think Uncle realizes that your brother has to work harder at things than you do. He doesn’t have your confidence, and I think Uncle Iroh wanted to encourage him. I think he really just wanted to send you something fun, but he didn’t realize how grown-up you are now.”

There was a soft knock at the door. It opened just wide enough to admit one of the women who worked at the inn. She bowed and said, “Pardon me, Princess, but the evening meal is being served.”

“Thank you,” said Mom. “We’ll be along directly.”

The serving woman bowed again and left. “Come on, let’s go eat. We don’t want Zuko to eat all the steamed buns, do we?” Mom smiled at Azula.

No way was she going to let Zuko have all the buns. They were her favorites. “Okay,” she smiled back at her mother. She hesitated a second, then she reached for her mother’s hand. Mom gave her hand a little squeeze, and they walked out together, hand in hand.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess Ursa makes contact with the Northern Water Tribe.

The sea stretched on forever, an endless expanse of blue only occasionally broken up by an iceberg. The water seemed almost unnaturally still to Ursa. Very rarely she spotted a shadow that signaled a whale lurking beneath the icy waters, and once or twice a koala-otter could be seen floating on its back before it dove out of the way of their metal ships. They had been sailing for three days.

She pulled her cloak tighter around her body. It was a thick koala-sheep wool, dyed a rich red color and lined with fur, and she was still cold.

“Enjoying the weather, Princess?”

Ursa turned to see the ship’s captain walking toward her. “Not at all,” she said dryly. “This is what passes for spring?” Ursa pulled off her gloves and tucked them into her belt. She raised her hands to her mouth and carefully blew out her breath of fire to warm them. “When do you think we will reach the city?”

The captain stood beside her on the balcony. “It shouldn’t be too much longer now,” he said, resting his hands on the metal railing.

Ursa nodded. She was ready to leave the frozen seas behind her and get back to her children. They had been getting along surprisingly well since the seashell incident. She prayed it wouldn’t all fall to pieces in her absence.

The ship gave a massive lurch as a huge wave crashed into its side. Ursa yelped and gripped the railing tightly as she lost her footing. She’d nearly fallen into the sea. Further out in the water, large spikes of ice grew from the sea.

“Ready the trebuchets!” roared the captain.

Soldiers scurried to light the massive hunks of pitch. They instantly caught flame.

Ursa let go of the railing and straightened to her full height. She scanned the horizon, but there was nothing. Just an empty blue sea under an empty blue sky. Ursa turned her head to speak to the captain, and then she saw it from the corner of her eye. Something was moving out there.

She turned toward it. For nearly a minute, she thought she’d imagined it. _It must have been the sun reflecting on the water._ No, there it was. A wide flat wooden boat glided right in front of the ship; it was propelled by several men in blue furs moving gracefully in unison.

“Waterbenders,” the captain muttered. “Well, Your Highness, we’ve reached the Northern Water Tribe.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Several more boats came into view. More ice spikes were forming between Ursa’s small band of ships and the waterbenders. As the ice crept dangerously close to their hull, the captain yelled, “Fire!” and a flaming ball of pitch crashed into the ice, melting it before sinking into the depths of the ocean.

“Hold your fire!” Ursa commanded in a loud voice. She glared at the captain. “How are we supposed to carry out a diplomatic mission if we light our potential allies on fire?”

“Princess, they attacked us,” the captain protested.

“I’m aware of that, captain. I am in charge of this mission and you will do as I command, or the Fire Lord himself will find out why.” She held his gaze with unflinching eyes.

He looked away. “Of course, Princess. Forgive me,” he murmured as he bowed. The soldiers had stopped firing, but the waterbenders had succeeded in trapping the ship in ice. If they kept going the hull would sustain massive damage, and Ursa and her soldiers would be at the mercy of the frozen sea.

Ursa took a deep breath, feeling the energy of the sun, and launched a dragon made of flame high into the air. She sent it in a wide arc towards the waterbenders and then circled it back towards her own ships before sending it plummeting into the ice between them. She’d never been a particularly gifted fighter, not like her brothers or her husband, but she’d always been a good performer. The flame dragon dove into the sea, melting a hole in the ice with a hiss and a bang. Shards of ice flashed brightly in the sun as they exploded in every direction.

Every single pair of eyes was on her.

“Enough!” she yelled. “Is this how the Water Tribe greets an envoy? With violence and hostility? We have come here in peace, to negotiate a treaty, and you attack us. I demand an audience with your chief.”

The waterbenders looked at her with disdain. “Why should we give in to any of your demands, woman?” shouted a young man with sullen blue eyes. “You have a few small ships, and we have you surrounded.”

Beside her the captain bristled. “You will speak to Princess Ursa with more respect, waterbender!”

She held up a hand to silence him. “We’ve come quite a long way. All I want is a chance to speak with your chief. Surely you will not deny me something so simple,” she said with a confidence that she didn’t quite feel.

The Water Tribe men exchanged wary glances. They bent their heads together and argued among themselves in hushed voices, too low for Ursa to make out their words. Occasionally the sullen-eyed boy would look up and glare in her direction.

After a moment, the knot of men quieted and broke apart. “You may enter the city, but not your men,” a gray-bearded man declared.

“Not my men,” Ursa agreed, “but surely a few of my women. It would be most improper for a princess to travel without proper escort, wouldn’t you agree?” She smiled sweetly. “I would hate to be mistaken for a hostage.”

A long moment passed. A sea bird cried out in the distance, and a chilly wind stirred her cloak.

“Two women, no more,” said the bearded man.

“Bakoda!” The sullen young man could contain himself no longer, it seemed. “It is bad enough that we must let one of these savages into Utuqaq, but to allow—”

Bakoda silenced the young man with a hard look. “Non-benders only, of course,” he said, as if the youth hadn’t spoken.

“Of course.” Ursa turned to the crew. “Yaling, Min, you will accompany me, please.” She left her place on the bridge and was met by two soldiers in skull-faced helmets on the main deck. A moment later, one of the wooden boats was floating on a swell of water nearly level with the ship’s deck. Ursa and her soldiers would need only to step down. _How very clever._

Ursa put her foot out, ready to step onto the waterbenders’ boat, before drawing it back. She looked closely at the waterbenders, considering.

“What’s the matter, afraid to get your boots wet?” the outspoken youth jeered.

“Not at all. I’m simply taking a moment to decide which of you men will stay on my ship.”

“Stay?” He hadn’t expected that. “What do you mean, stay?”

Several of them started muttering among themselves. Ursa paid them no more mind than she would the chattering of sea-ravens. “You didn’t really expect three women to come alone with you into a great walled city without any guarantee for their safe return? Once negotiations have finished, you will bring us back to our ship, and then you may safely collect your warriors.”

She chose a tall, muscular young man, no more than seventeen years of age. He bore a great resemblance to gray Bakoda, and Ursa was willing to bet he was his son or grandson. She also selected an older man with long gray hair and a third man around her own age. Both wore deep blue parkas with extensive detailing at the cuffs and hem, as well as intricately carved ivory and bone jewelry, indicators of great status. Ursa was thankful that her brother-in-law had quite an extensive library which included many scrolls on the Water Tribes and their culture, and that she had taken the time to study them before her departure.

Min and Yaling stepped onto the wooden boat first, then Ursa’s Water Tribe guests climbed onto the metal Fire Navy ship. Ursa boarded the waterbenders’ boat last. The insolent young man looked as if he’d like to spit on her, and the others weren’t much better. Cold blue eyes glowered at the three of them. Ursa turned away from their gaze to look over the vast frozen ocean as the waterbenders propelled the boats towards the city.

Soon the surrounding wall loomed overhead, an immense slab of ice that almost seemed to glow in the sunlight. Beside her, Yaling stifled a small gasp of wonder. It _was_ beautiful. The front was carved with a crescent moon and stylized flowing water, the insignia of the Water Tribe.

Ursa had to crane her neck to see the archway at the top of it. The arch was decorated with animal heads carved from ice. There was a wolf, and what she thought was a whale, but she couldn’t see clearly enough to know for sure.

They were nearly at the base of the wall when a low rumble sounded and a half-moon shaped crack appeared in the ice. The ice fell away into the sea, creating a tunnel for the boats to pass through. It was even colder in the tunnel than it was on the open sea. Here, it was a nearly palpable thing. It seeped off of the walls and crept under her armor. It seemed to Ursa that it burrowed into her very bones. She felt as if the weight of all of that ice was pressing down on her, ready to suffocate her in a frozen tomb.

It was a relief when they emerged into the sunlight again. The thick ice wall re-formed behind the last boat, leaving the group of boats in a square pen of ice. Many waterbenders stood on its high walls. In unison they lifted their arms to the sky, then crouched into a horse stance and brought their arms down. Water rushed into the pen and lifted the boats to the same level as the city.

Ursa had thought it would be a small city, nothing too impressive. Whenever she’d imagined the Northern Water Tribe on her journey, she’d pictured a group of igloos and seal skin tents on a desolate block of ice. She’d been very wrong.

The boats sailed out of the ice pen into a channel of water lined with huge ice totem poles. Bears, whales, fish, wolves, and sea-ravens all looked down at them. Men riding reindeer-oxen hitched to carts of goods stopped to stare at the strangers.

They glided down the channel past stables, sparring grounds, and store-houses. The channel flowed into a beautiful system of canals that functioned as the city’s streets. Many Water Tribe people were plying canoes.

They went under bridges and by lovely fountains. Women in long full skirts and tall fur-lined hats hurried to pull their children into houses. Once inside the children rushed to peep out of the windows, eager to catch a glimpse of the foreigners.

The buildings seemed to rise up, as if the city itself was a tall hill. Near the top of the hill of buildings was a large stairway surrounded by more totem poles and many waterfalls, each one flanked by even more animal heads keeping silent vigil. The stairway led to an ornate six-level building that could only be the palace. It was crowned with a stylized wave within a circular crest. The entire city was situated within an immense crater of ice that sheltered it from the worst of the weather.

The boat glided smoothly to a stop by the broad plain of ice that lay at the base of the stairway. Bakoda and the other waterbenders stepped off and gestured for Ursa and her soldiers to do the same. She stepped onto the ice carefully. It would not do to lose her footing in front of these men. Her soldiers followed one step behind, Min on the left and Yaling on the right. The other boats followed, and she and her companions were surrounded by waterbenders.

Snow and ice crunched under their feet as they walked beneath ice bears and arctic wolves that looked down on them with cold dead eyes full of judgment. The steps were slick, her black leather boots had not been designed to grip the ice the way the waterbenders’ were. She stepped slowly and deliberately, determined not to falter. Falling would shame not only herself, but her entire nation. She refused to jeopardize her son’s future by failing at the task set to her by the Fire Lord. _Agni, fill me with your fire. Allow me to bring honor and glory to your people._

The steps curved over a pool of still blue water before leveling out at a sort of courtyard made of ice. A pair of fierce-looking warriors in black, white, and gray face paint came marching towards their group, brandishing long spears that ended in a sharpened whale tooth. “Stop right there! Bakoda, what is the meaning of this?”

Before Bakoda could answer, the insolent youth exclaimed, “It’s disgraceful! He’s allowed this woman firebender and two female soldiers to—”

“Quiet Kuruk! Learn your place,” barked the left guard as Bakoda himself reached over and gave the boy a swat on the ear. Kuruk scowled and rubbed the place where he was struck, but managed to hold his tongue.

“I am Princess Ursa of the Fire Nation, daughter-in-law to Fire Lord Azulon and mother of his grandchildren Prince Zuko and Princess Azula,” Ursa declared, not waiting for Bakoda. “I have come as a representative of the Fire Lord to meet with your chief and arrange a treaty between our great nations.”

The guards exchanged skeptical glances. Then the one on the right said, “Bakoda, what is going on?”

Bakoda started to speak, but Ursa cut him off. “I am quite eager to begin negotiations, and I am sure the Water Tribe guests on my ship are just as eager to return to their homes. So, if you don’t mind, gentlemen, let’s not waste time by repeating things I’ve already said.”

Outwardly she was serene; inside she was seething. How dare he ignore her, as if she were nothing! She was a princess of the Fire Nation by marriage, and a member of the nobility in her own right. She stalked across the courtyard, flanked closely by her soldiers, to another set of steps. “I assume this is the way?”

The men appeared shocked for a moment, then Bakoda whispered something to the guards. The right one nodded, and they both came forward to escort the party into the palace itself.

The throne room was an immense chamber of ice. The arched ceiling was made of ice thin enough to allow the light to pour through, illuminating a huge decoratively carved gate-like structure that formed above the dais. Behind this gate, water poured from a circular opening just below the ceiling to create a rushing, foaming waterfall that fell behind the two large slabs of ice that served as a dais. The stylized waterbending wave was carved high on the left-hand side of the wall, the crescent moon and rippling ocean of the tribe’s insignia on the right. Even more water flowed from two massive pots perched on a sort of shelf built into the back wall. The crescent moon and ocean were depicted yet again in a large woven rug of several shades of blue that covered a floor made of large rectangles of ice fitted tightly together. _By the time this journey is over,_ Ursa thought, _I will be glad to see any color that isn’t blue or white._

Four old, gray-haired men sat cross-legged on the upper level of the dais. Three figures occupied the lower tier. A woman with elaborately braided brown hair and a long fur-trimmed dress perched delicately on one end, her legs tucked neatly beneath her. On the other end sat an old man with long, receding gray hair, a thin gray mustache, and a little gray goatee. He squinted skeptically at them through small, light blue eyes. Between them was the Chief Arnook.

The chief appeared to be in his late thirties, certainly not more than a year over forty, if Ursa were to guess. He had a long face, a long, crooked nose, and a neat little brown beard. His long brown hair had been partially pulled back into a plait. A few smaller plaits decorated with blue beads framed his face. The white fur trim of his parka was thick and luxurious-looking. He wore an ivory choker and a large carved medallion strung on a long necklace of blue beads and bear claws.

Ursa and her soldiers bowed before him. The chief inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. The water tribe escort, along with half a dozen additional guards waited on the blue carpet behind the women.

“Chief Arnook,” Ursa greeted him.

“Princess Ursa,” he returned.

“I come on behalf of the Fire Lord to broker a formal peace between our two great nations,” she began.

“And he wishes to seal this peace with a marriage between my daughter and his grandson.” It seemed to Ursa that his wife’s expression darkened briefly before smoothing once again into a neutral expression. “Yet he dishonors me by sending a woman to make the bargain,” Arnook continued. “This is not some trivial thing to be haggled over like a fishwife selling cod. If the Fire Lord is serious about making a bargain in good faith, why did he not send his son, the boy’s father, as is right and proper?”

His wife and the old man next to him nodded. The old men on the upper level of the dais looked down at her with stony faces, and Ursa could hear murmurs of agreement ripple through the tribesmen behind her.

“Chief Arnook,” she said placidly, “here in the Water Tribe you may place little value on a woman’s skills, but that is simply not so in the Fire Nation. Either parent may negotiate a marriage contract, and many fine soldiers and cunning warriors are women. I assure you, no disrespect was intended.”

The chief’s wife gasped. The man with the thin gray mustache arched a brow and said, “In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t the Fire Nation. This is a civilized society; we have rules here.”

“Master Pakku, I’m sure the Princess meant no harm.” Chief Arnook glanced pointedly at Ursa.

She lowered her gaze demurely. “Of course not. My apologies, Master Pakku.” She looked the chief right in the eye and said, “However, my husband is not available, and I have already traveled all this way. If you’d be kind enough to speak with me, I know the Fire Lord would appreciate it. He does so hate to have his time wasted.”

“I am sorry, Princess,” said Chief Arnook, “but I think you will find your entire journey to have been time wasted.”

Now it was Ursa’s turn to arch a brow. “Oh? And what makes you think that?”

Kuruk raised a fist in the air and shouted, “Because the Water Tribe will never sign a treaty with Fire Nation savages! You—”

Arnook made a gesture with his hand and two of the guards escorted Kuruk out of the room before he could finish his outburst. “My apologizes, Princess Ursa, Kuruk is young and not overly polite, but he is correct nonetheless. We simply see no benefit to a treaty with the Fire Nation at this time.”

“I see. Well, Chief Arnook, I’m afraid that you don’t fully understand.”

“What do I not understand, Princess?”

“The Fire Lord has decided that out two nations will come to an agreement. How that agreement comes about, however, is entirely up to you.” Ursa saw a brief flicker of fear in his eyes. That was good. Maybe she would be successful in her mission. In a flat, bored tone she continued, “You can agree to a marriage between the children, negotiate terms, and remain independent as you’ve always been. Eventually, one of their children will succeed you as chief. Or, you can be conquered, suffer heavy losses, and have no say at all in your tribe’s government and future. A Fire Nation governor will be appointed over your people, and your princess will stay in the Fire Nation palace as assurance for your good behavior.” She made herself smile at him, though she did not relish such prospects, especially taking such a young girl as hostage.

Master Pakku spoke up. “How is it you plan to conquer us? The gates can only be opened by waterbending, the landscape is treacherous to foreigners unfamiliar with it, and your soldiers would be entirely surrounded by water.” He made a dismissive gesture. “This is empty boasting, Chief Arnook, nothing more. She may dress in fancy armor, but this woman is obviously ignorant in the ways of warfare.”

“And you are obviously ignorant of the Fire Nation’s many victories in the South Pole. The people of your sister tribe were not able to defeat our soldiers, despite _their_ treacherous terrain and the fact that they are also surrounded by water.” Ursa turned to the chief. “There is a large armada of ships waiting to the south, out of the range of your scouts. You must surely realize that summer is almost upon us. That means twenty-four hours of daylight at the North Pole, does it not? In such a case, you will be vastly outnumbered by superior ships without the advantage the moon would otherwise bring to your benders. I am only a woman, but it seems to me that it would be far better for us to come to an agreement so that useless bloodshed may be avoided.”

The chief’s wife said angrily, “How do we know you have such ships? Should we merely take your word? It is well-known that Fire Nation savages lie as easily as they conjure flames.” She glared at Ursa, and her eyes were hateful chips of blue stone. Turning to her husband she said, “This is likely some elaborate ruse, a trick to steal your only child.”

“I haven’t come all this way to be insulted. All I wanted was to speak with you, yet your benders attack my ships and your people disrespect and degrade me at every turn. If you truly don’t wish to discuss term, then there’s nothing I can do.” Ursa shrugged her shoulders. “The fleet is a few days behind our initial ships. You’ll see the truth for yourself soon enough. Perhaps one of your guards would be good enough to escort my soldiers and myself back to our ship? I would like to write to the Fire Lord as soon as possible.” Ursa turned to go, Min and Yaling following behind.

She was tired of being treated like a stupid little doll, pretty enough, but utterly incompetent and naïve. And on top of everything, Arnook’s wife had called her a liar, and insinuated that her entire nation had no honor. As far as Ursa was concerned, the whole place could just melt, and the lot of them could drown.

The room had fallen silent except for the sound of flowing water. Chief Arnook and Master Pakku exchanged nervous glances. Arnook cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Princess. Perhaps we’ve been too hasty.” He spread his arms wide in a welcoming gesture. “Please, sit down and we can have a proper discussion.” Ursa sat before the dais, pleased to be taken seriously at last, though she took care not to show her relief on her face.

Arnook’s wife paled and closed her eyes. She clenched her skirts tightly in both fists. “Ummi, would you please ask a servant to send in some refreshments on your way out?” Arnook asked her. “We may be here a while.”

Ummi’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice. For a split second she looked angry and betrayed, but she quickly schooled her face into a blandly polite expression.

“And send in Panruk with parchment and ink, if you would be so kind. I’m sure we’ll want this in writing.” Ummi nodded stiffly and walked quickly from the dais, purple skirts swishing around her feet. She vanished through a side door.

Arnook looked at Ursa with a mild expression. “Would you care for some tea, Princess?”

_Finally, some civility._ It took a great deal of willpower to keep her expression neutral. “Yes, Chief Arnook, tea would be lovely.” Perhaps she wouldn’t have to have the North Pole melted after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fire Nation and Northern Water Tribe agree on a treaty, and Chief Arnook has a conversation with his wife and with his daughter. One goes better than the other.

It was well past the supper hour when Arnook finally left the throne room for his private chambers. After much discussion, hours of debating and refining every single point, many cups of strong black tea, and a small meal of seaweed noodle soup, fresh squid, and frozen snowberries, an agreement had finally been reached. Panruk had carefully written out three copies on crisp new sheets of parchment. Each one had been signed by Princess Ursa and Chief Arnook, and her female soldiers and the council elders had signed as witnesses. One copy was to stay in Utuqaq, one was to be kept by the fire princess, and the final copy was to be sent to the Fire Lord himself via messenger hawk. Arnook had asked the princess if the Fire Lord wouldn’t want to approve the agreement before it was finalized, but she had just fixed him with a hard look in her golden brown eyes and said, “I assure you, Chief Arnook, I act with full authority.” After that it had simply been a matter of escorting the foreigners back to their ship and bringing the members of the tribe back into the city.

Suddenly overwhelmed by weariness, he leaned his head against the icy wall outside of his bedchamber and closed his eyes. _Spirits forgive me, but I saw no other way._ Perhaps if the avatar were still alive, but no, that was impossible. No one had seen the avatar in nearly one hundred years; there was no sense in hoping for aid that would never come.

He stepped through the hide door to find his wife rummaging in the carved ivory box that held her comb, hair ties and beads, and similar items. Her long brown hair flowed loose around her shoulders and down her back. She seized a comb and began pulling it through her hair rather violently.

“Ummi?”

She kept attacking the knots in her hair.

“You’re not going to speak to me?” he asked in a dull voice. She didn’t answer. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. “I know you don’t want this; it’s not what I wanted either, but—”

“You want me to speak now?” she asked in a low voice. Her back was turned to him, but she her hands were at her sides now. She gripped the ivory comb tightly. “You certainly didn’t want me to say anything earlier. You sent me from the room like a child,” she said, voice trembling ever so slightly. “As if I had no right to be there. As if you didn’t barter away my only child like a bundle of furs.”

Her words pierced his heart. It wasn’t like that at all. Yue was his most valued treasure; didn’t his own wife know that after eleven years? How could he possibly make her understand that he didn’t make this choice lightly, that the very idea of it was as appalling to him as it was to her?

“Ummi,” he pleaded, “that’s not—”

She whirled around to face him, her hair flying wildly. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare try and tell me that this isn’t much different from a normal arranged marriage.” She jabbed the empty space between them with her comb. “If Yue were to marry someone like Hahn or any other Water Tribe boy, she’d still be here, not thousands of miles away with a bunch of fire-breathing savages! She’d be safe in her own community, with her own people.” Ummi crumpled to the floor. “Who knows how they’ll treat her,” she whimpered.

Arnook carefully sat down next to her. He reached out to hold her, but she shrugged him off. She lay in a heap, her face buried in one of the thick soft pelts that covered the floor, and wept. Arnook sat on the floor silently as she cried for what seemed like years.

When her tears slowed, he said, “You’re right. We won’t be able to keep her with us. We won’t be able to look after her ourselves. All we can do is pray for the spirits to watch over her in our place.” Arnook had to believe that the spirits of the ocean and moon would protect his daughter. They had given her life as an infant, surely they would not abandon her as a young bride.

Ummi wiped her face with her sleeve and took a shuddering breath. Arnook absently ran a finger through the furs. “They would have taken what they wanted either way,” he murmured. “That was made abundantly clear. At least this way our people will remain sovereign.”

Ummi sat up and glared at him with red-rimmed eyes. “What are the terms, then? Or am I not allowed to hear them? After all, I’m nobody of consequence. All I’m good for is summoning servants.”

Arnook was taken aback. He had never heard Ummi speak to anyone that way before. It was as if his sweet and gentle wife had been replaced by some sort of willful, defiant, bitter creature, full of anger and resentment, and all of it directed at him. He hated that she felt that way, but what was he supposed to have done? She knew she wasn’t supposed to speak in council meetings. It wasn’t a woman’s place. And she hadn’t only had she spoken out of turn; she had offended the fire princess so badly that the wrath of Fire Lord Azulon had nearly been brought down on them all.

“I am sorry, Ummi. I never meant to embarrass you, but I couldn’t risk another outburst.” He reached for her hand, but she deliberately tucked both of her hands into her sleeves. She looked at him expectantly.

Resisting the urge to sigh again, he said in a placating tone of voice, “The Northern Water Tribe will remain sovereign and independent as it has always been. Trade with the Earth Kingdom is to cease; however, the Fire Nation will provide us with wood, metal goods such as cooking knives and needles, silk thread, ink sticks, and tea, among other items. Our warriors will not be conscripted to fight in their war. In exchange, we are not to take up arms against the Fire Nation, nor provide aid or shelter to its enemies. They have also agreed to remove their navy from all Water Tribe waters, including those of our sister tribe.

“After the Fire Lord receives his copy of the treaty, half of the princess’s fleet will go south to retrieve Prince Zuko and escort him into the city. The children will meet, the betrothal and treaty will be officially announced, and we will have a celebratory feast.”

Ummi made a scoffing sound. Arnook ignored her and continued, “Princess Yue and Prince Zuko are to be married shortly after her sixteenth birthday. There will be a ceremony here in Utuqaq that follows our customs and traditions. After the wedding, they will travel south to the Fire Nation. Yue is to be attended by two handmaidens and a healer who will stay with her in the Fire Nation capital.”

Ummi looked relieved. Arnook had absolutely insisted. He would not send his daughter alone into a strange land, nor would he have her look like a beggar before her in-laws. She was a princess, and he would not let the Fire Nation forget it. “A small fleet of waterbenders and warriors will also accompany her, although they’ll be leaving after the second, Fire Nation-style wedding. Their firstborn non-firebending child is to become my heir.”

Ummi scowled and retrieved her comb from where it had fallen when she collapsed onto the floor. Her hair was a mess of tangles, but she tossed it into the box. She got to her feet, picked up the box, and crossed the room. She gathered an armful of clothes.

“What are you doing?”

“Gathering some of my things,” she said without looking at him.

Arnook furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“I’m sleeping in another room. I’ll send a servant after the rest of my things in the morning.” She stopped in front of the door and closed her eyes. “I told you I would abide by your decision, Arnook, and I will. But I also told you that I would never forgive you, and I meant it.” Ummi lifted her chin and strode through the door. The hide fell shut with a whisper behind her.

Arnook ran a hand down his face and flopped onto his back. Ummi would come to her senses soon. He stared at the ceiling for a while, too bone weary to move. Then he made himself pull off his boots and crawl into bed. He could hardly spend the night on the floor. He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. A moment ago, he had been exhausted, but now he felt as if sleep were impossible. Frustrated, he threw off the sleeping furs, put his boots back on, and left the bedchamber.

Yue was tucked up in her bed, cuddling a stuffed ice bear. When she saw her father in the doorway, she quickly shoved it under her pillow. Arnook pretended not to notice. Since her birthday a few moons ago, she insisted that she was too old for such things. The bear had been her favorite when she was little. It warmed his heart to see that she still slept with it, even if she didn’t want anyone to know.

“Papa! What are you doing here?”

He smiled sadly at her. “Can we talk?”

Yue sat up straighter, face suddenly serious. “Is something wrong, Papa? Are you and Mama fighting?”

Arnook frowned. “What makes you think Mama and I are fighting?”

His daughter fixed him with a stare. “Really, Papa, I’m not a little kid anymore. Mama’s been upset all afternoon, and you’ve been quiet for weeks.”

As much as he might wish otherwise, his little girl was becoming a young lady, and she deserved to know what was happening. He gestured for Yue to scoot over so that he could sit beside her on the low bed. “Mama is unhappy right now, and to tell the truth, I am, as well. But sometimes being a leader means you have to put your own wants aside, and think of the community as a whole.”

He toyed with the edge of her sleeping furs, thinking of the best way to proceed. Would she be horrified at what her father was asking of her? Would she hate him? _Oh, please, spirits I couldn’t bear that. Isn’t it enough that I must give her to a savage foreigner? Don’t make me lose her love as well._

“Is this about Hahn?” Yue asked. Her eyes were so innocent and trusting. No one could have hated Arnook as much as he did himself in that moment. He wished he were anybody else. If he was just an ordinary person, then he would not be burdened with this terrible choice. Another man would be forced to decide between his daughter’s happiness and well-being, and the continued survival and independence of their people. But Arnook was the chief, and no matter what choice he made, something priceless was sacrificed.

“No, it’s not about Hahn.” He took one of her small hands into his larger one. “But it is about the boy you will marry.” He couldn’t look into those trusting blue eyes, so he looked at their joined hands instead.

“I don’t understand. Papa, why would you choose a boy that you and Mama aren’t happy about? Tell me what’s going on, Papa.” Her eyes were wide with worry.

“We have had some visitors from the Fire Nation.”

“The Fire Nation?” she repeated nervously. “What do they want?”

“They want an alliance, or at least that’s what they say. They really just want us out of the way, so that they can focus on the Earth Kingdom without having to worry about the Water Tribe. They want to seal this alliance with a marriage.” He took a calming breath. “Between you and the Fire Lord’s grandson.”

Her face fell, and she closed her eyes. Even so, she held tightly to his hand.

“I don’t see any way out of this, at least not without very heavy losses on our end. They have a huge navy, and they are completely ruthless. They say they will attack during midnight sun if they don’t get what they want.”

Yue gasped in horror and threw her arms around him. “Oh, how awful!”

Arnook embraced her tightly and stroked her bright white hair. “I’m so sorry, Yue. This isn’t what I wanted, not at all.” Tears gathered in his eyes, but he shut them tightly and willed the tears away. He must be strong for his daughter.

Yue leaned into his chest and said, “It’s not your fault, Papa. How will the alliance work?”

“After the wedding, you will live in the Fire Nation capital. Two handmaidens and a healer will stay with you. Our people will stay out of the war, and the Fire Nation will leave us alone. There would also be certain promises of trade between the two countries.” Arnook’s voice was flat and tired. His wife was right. What sort of father sells his daughter so cheaply?

And then, amazingly, Yue smiled at him. A soft gentle smile, full of love and hope. “Oh, Papa. It’s all right; I’ll be fine.”

“I thought you’d be angry,” he murmured. _I thought you’d hate me for it, the way your mother does. You_ should _hate me._

She kissed his cheek. “It’s an honor to serve my people and to protect them.” She frowned slightly. “It is a little scary, but I won’t be alone.” Yue lifted her chin regally, and there was a determined gleam in her eye. “Besides, that is what a princess is for. To serve her people. It’s my duty to do this, and I do it gladly.”

Arnook was in awe of her. What had he done to be blessed with such a wonderful daughter? He kissed her forehead and smoothed back her hair. “You’re such a brave young woman, Yue. I’m so proud of you.”

He stood to go. It was late, at least an hour past Yue’s normal bedtime. “Sleep now, sweet one.” He stooped down to kiss her forehead again. Yue slid down beneath the furs and he tucked her in. He hadn’t done that since she was five, and he found himself wondering where the time went. “You don’t want to be too tired for your lessons tomorrow.”

“Yes, Papa,” she said as she snuggled deeper into her pillow.

Arnook went to the door and lifted the hide flap. “Papa?” Yue called.

“Yes? What is it?”

“It might be exciting. Seeing what’s outside the North Pole, I mean. Have you ever been?”

He smiled at her. “No, sweetheart. Very few Water Tribe people have ventured south in the past eighty years.”

She yawned. “I’ll make sure to write to you and Mama and tell you everything I see.”

“I’ll look forward to reading your letters, then. Now go to sleep. You won’t be going anywhere for a long time, yet.” He shut her door, and made his way back to his own chamber to sleep at last.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chief Arnook and his wife Ummi are fighting, and Yue is in the middle of it. She hides in the spirit oasis to think over her situation.

Breakfast that morning was tense and uncomfortable. Mama, Papa, and Yue all sat together at the low table in the royal family’s private dining room, just like they had every morning of Yue’s life. But today Mama kept her eyes firmly on her plate, moving her food around but not eating any of it, and she refused to speak to Papa. He had tried to make polite small talk and been ignored. So now he gazed out of the big open window, over the city and the ocean that lay beyond it, a faraway look on his face. He ate what was in front of him, though he didn’t seem to notice it.

Yue hated that they were fighting. She sighed and put her snail back onto the dish. She didn’t feel like eating right now, her stomach was all in knots. “May I please be excused?” she asked.

Papa snapped his gaze to her face, his eyes sharp and focused. Mama looked concerned. “You’re not going to eat any breakfast?”

Yue shook her head. Mama furrowed her brow. “But I thought those little purple snails were your favorite.”

“They are, Mama. I’m just not hungry this morning, that’s all.”

“Not hungry?” Mama repeated. “Are you feeling unwell? Do you have a fever?” She put a hand to Yue’s forehead and glared at Papa. It was quick, but Yue still noticed.

“Mama, I feel fine, really.”

“Well, you don’t feel warm.” Mama removed her hand from Yue’s head. “You’re certain that you’re feeling well this morning? Honestly?”

“Yes, I’m certain. I promise,” Yue insisted.

“You have to eat something, sweetie. You’re a growing girl. Do you want me to have the cook make some five-flavor soup?”

“Your mother’s right, Yue. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Papa said in a coaxing voice.

They were both looking at her with so much worry. “No, Mama, please don’t go to any trouble.” Yue picked up the snail. The knots in her stomach wriggled and twisted, but she made herself smile at her mother. “I’ll eat what’s already made. It’s fine, see?” She slurped out the sweet meat inside. Yue felt horrible that she’d made her parents worry about her even more. They had enough to worry about without her making a big deal out of nothing. She sucked the meat out of another snail. She could eat a whole platter of them if only Mama and Papa would just quit looking at her like that.

Mama still didn’t look completely convinced, but she turned her attention back to her own breakfast. Papa went back to staring at the horizon, and they all three sat in strained silence.

As soon as she had forced down a breakfast big enough for Mama’s approval, Yue put on her parka and went outside to sit on her bedroom balcony. It was a beautiful day, crisp and bright, and a relief after being trapped inside. She took a deep breath of fresh cold air. The sun felt good on her face. Yue closed her eyes and lifted her face to its warmth.

Mama’s angry voice shattered the peaceful moment. “She’s so upset she can’t eat, Arnook! You know how delicate her health is, she needs her strength.”

“Or she’s uncomfortable because she knows we’ve been arguing,” Papa countered. He sounded annoyed.

Yue drew her knees up to her chest and pulled her hood down over her face. She didn’t want to hear them arguing, but their voices carried out of the dining room window and through the thick fur around her ears.

Mama didn’t even try to keep her voice down. “Don’t you blame this on me! I’m not the one who—”

“Ummi, I’m not blaming anything on you,” Papa said. “But would it hurt you to at least try to put on a brave face? For our daughter’s sake?” There was a hint of anger in his voice now. Yue couldn’t ever remember him talking to Mama like that before. She crammed her fingers in her ears.

Mama was furious. “You…you have the nerve to say such a thing?” she sputtered, her voice rising higher. “How can you possibly talk about what’s best for Yue when you’ve traded her away to a vile country full of fire-breathing savages?”

Yue didn’t wait to hear anything else. She ran down the outer steps and across the icy grounds behind the palace until she reached the small wooden door that led to the spirit oasis. She knelt down and crawled through it, making sure to shut the door behind her. Only then did she let the tears fall.

She hated feeling like she had to choose between her parents. Mama was so angry with Papa, and she wanted Yue to be angry with him, too. She wouldn’t say so outright, but Yue knew. Yue just couldn’t be angry with Papa, though, not when he was so sad. Besides, the Fire Nation hadn’t really given him a fair choice. She wiped her tears away with the back of her sleeve. No matter what she did, she was letting someone down.

She knelt by the door until her tears were all dried up and she felt like she was suffocating in her parka. She got to her feet and walked along the little wooden bridge until she came to the grassy area of the shrine. Yue yanked her parka over her head and threw it down on the grass, then she flopped down onto it in a very unladylike way. As she lay there on her stomach, she could almost hear Mama and the maids’ disapproval. _That’s no way for a princess to behave,_ they’d say. Well, she didn’t care how a princess should behave. Not right now. A princess shouldn’t hide from her problems in a sacred oasis, either, but Yue always felt better here.

She rolled over onto her back and folded her hands across her belly. The truth was, she _was_ scared. The unified city-state of Utuqaq was all she’d ever known. She’d never even seen a person who wasn’t Water Tribe before. Travelling thousands of miles to a strange new land filled with strange new people was scary. And she wouldn’t just be travelling to the Fire Nation, she’d be living there. Forever. She might never even be able to come home for a visit.

Even so, she had meant what she’d said to Papa last night. It _was_ her duty as a princess of the Water Tribe, both to do as her father wished and to sacrifice herself and her own desires for her people if need be. Princess Yue loved her people deeply; if she could stop the Fire Nation from hurting them, she was glad to do it.

And anyway, it would be an adventure, in a way. That hadn’t been a lie, either. Yue wondered what sort of things were out there in the great big world, things that lay between the North Pole and the Fire Nation. She closed her eyes and imagined thick green jungles, scorching hot deserts, wide blue rivers. She tried to picture tall trees and rocky mountains. What kind of animals did they have in the south? Was there anything more ferocious than an ice bear, or cuter than a koala-otter? Try as she might, she couldn’t form a clear picture in her mind.

The North Pole would always be home, always special and comforting and familiar. She supposed it was like a parent that way. But maybe some other places could be like new friends? The thought cheered her up, if only a little.

Yue looked up at the sky, high above her. It was such a brilliant, joyful shade of blue. It almost seemed like nothing bad could happen under a sky like that.

_Maybe the fire prince won’t be so bad,_ she thought. She hoped he was better than Hahn, at least. Mama and Papa had never really said so, but she knew that he was their favorite out of all of her potential suitors. Mama especially seemed to like him. Yue wasn’t sure why. Sure, he was cute enough and he came from a really high-ranking family, but he was conceited and a braggart. He was a bad loser, too. She remembered the time he’d pouted and knocked over his pai sho tiles after one of their games. And he was boring. All he ever wanted to talk about was his warrior training and how great he was. He never cared about anything she had to say.

Yue sat up and brushed the grass from her hair. It was nearly mid-morning. Mama would be worried about her. She frowned. Mama was always worried about her. _Yue, don’t stay outside so long, you could catch a chill. Yue, you haven’t finished your lunch, are you feeling all right? The princess can’t participate in snowball fights, her health is far too delicate. It’s a relief she wasn’t born a waterbender, healing would surely be too strenuous for her._ Her whole life, Mama had hovered over Yue like an arctic hen with a clutch of newly hatched chicks.

Reluctantly, Yue put her parka back on and left the spirit oasis. She supposed Mama’s fussing would only get worse that she had brand new things to worry about. Yue knew her mother loved her, but sometimes she resented being treated as if she might break at any moment. Papa was a little better, but not much. She knew he worried, too, he just didn’t give voice to his worries as much as Mama did. Not to mention he was busy running a nation.

Mama found her halfway between the oasis and the palace. As soon as she saw Yue her whole face lit up in relief and she immediately pulled Yue into an embrace. “Oh, my darling girl! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. It’s time for your lessons soon.”

Yue squeezed her mother tightly. Strands of Mama’s thick brown hair had worked their way free of her hairstyle, and they tickled Yue’s cheek. She smelled like fresh snow and salty seas and home. The thought of never seeing her again made Yue’s heart ache.

Mama pulled back from the hug and cupped Yue’s face in her hands. “You’ve been crying,” she said.

“No, I haven’t,” Yue lied.

Mama wasn’t fooled. “Your eyes are all red, and your face is a little puffy. Did you hear Papa and me arguing?”

Yue didn’t know what to say. She looked at the ground and worried at a little crack in the ice with the toe of her boot.

Mama sighed and hugged her again. “I’m sorry, Yue. You shouldn’t have to hear things like that.”

Yue felt so guilty for the things she’d been thinking about Mama all morning. How could she resent her own mother, a mother who just wanted what was best for her? Yue knew Mama only worried and fussed over her because she loved her so much.

“I’ll be okay, Mama. Really, I will,” she said with a bright smile. “You don’t need to worry about me so much. I’m almost grown up, you know.”

Mama stroked Yue’s cheek with the back of her fingers. She smiled sadly at her. “Oh, my darling. Someday you’ll understand. A mother never stops worrying about her baby, even when that baby’s grown up.” Mama just looked at her for a long moment. Then she squeezed Yue’s hand gently and said, “You know what? I think we can forget lessons for today. Let’s see if we can find something fun to do, just you and me.”

“Okay.” Yue squeezed Mama’s hand back. “I love you, Mama.”

“I love you, too, Yue.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After nearly three years on campaign, Iroh is comes home to the Fire Nation, and reunites with his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that there is an extra generation added in, so Sozin is Azulon's grandfather.

The iron warship moved slowly into the bay. General Iroh, Dragon of the West and Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, stood alone on the deck. A steady rain fell from a dark gray sky, and his cloak did little to keep out the damp chill. The others had retreated below, but he couldn’t be bothered to move.

It had been nearly three years since he’d been home. Three years since he’d seen his father, his brother, or his brother’s children. They had been so little when he’d left. Would they even recognize their old uncle now? How old was Azula now, seven? She couldn’t possibly be eight already, could she?

He peered out from under his hood. The statue of his father loomed high above the ship, his stern features blurred by distance and the drizzle of rain. What would Fire Lord Azulon, great conqueror of the Hu Sin Provinces, fearless leader of the Battle of Garsai, a prideful man who had commissioned the immense fiery gates and graced them with a statue of himself, think of his oldest son? Would he have wept and retreated if Iroh had been killed in one of his battles? Or would he have unleashed his fury and burned everything to the ground? Was his father ashamed of him? Did he think Iroh was a failure?

But of course, Iroh was a failure, in every way possible. He had breached Ba Sing Se’s outer wall, but it had taken nearly six hundred days to achieve. The general whose pearl-handled dagger Iroh had sent home as a gift for his nephew had been a coward. The men on the inner walls were made of sterner stuff, and they had no intentions of surrendering. Once the outer wall was compromised, the earthbenders had ruined the crops in the nearby fields and collapsed the wells. The Fire Nation supply lines were being harassed by enemy armies the entire way to the occupying forces, and were slow to arrive, if they managed to make it through at all. Over a year of relentlessly chipping away at an enormous wall of unyielding stone was difficult enough, but after the outer wall was breached, and they marched across fields of broken crops and upturned stones only to be met with another equally enormous wall, and morale had fallen significantly. They may as well have tried tunneling though a mountain with a soup spoon.

But Iroh had just kept pressing forward, relentlessly. Victory was in the Fire Nation’s grasp; he just knew it. Hadn’t Agni himself given him a vision as a young man? Was he not to be a great man, a conqueror, like his father and ancestors before him? Wasn’t it his destiny to claim the great city of Ba Sing Se for the Fire Nation?

And then the ground had trembled and shifted beneath their feet, and rocks the size of rhinos had fallen from the sky above their heads, and one-third of Iroh’s army was lost in the blink of an eye. He had been commanding from the rear, but his son Lu Ten was a young man, and young men thirst for glory.

Iroh’s only child, the light of his life, had been crushed to death leading the assault on the inner wall. His brilliant young son, extinguished like a candle flame.

Rain was falling even harder as he walked through the palace gates. The wooden doors were blood-red and horrible as the water washed down them; the carved flame was a yawning great mouth, ready to devour anything that came across its path. Nothing moved in the great stone courtyard, no birds, no insects. The fires had been extinguished in the downpour and the golden bowls were filled with pools of water that rippled as the rain fell. The only sound was the pinging of the fat raindrops as they struck the clay tiles of the roof and the stones of the courtyard floor.

The palace doors groaned when he pulled them open. Inside it was quiet, and still, and cold. _Like a tomb,_ he thought. His footsteps rang loudly on the polished floor. He saw no one.

When he reached his personal apartments, he went straight to his bedchamber. He shrugged off his cloak, letting it fall to the floor with a wet _plop_. He unbuckled his armor and left it in a haphazard pile.

The portraits of his mother Ilah and his wife Lien looked at him with lifeless painted eyes. Now his son had joined them in the afterlife. Were they together now? Were they at peace? Iroh wished he knew.

He crossed the room to his pitcher and basin, and didn’t recognize the face that looked back at him from the mirror. It was an old man’s face, wrinkled and tired. His hair and beard were completely gray now. They’d still been black at the siege. He supposed it was only fitting that his looks matched the way he felt.

Iroh knew he should wash up, but he couldn’t muster the energy. All he wanted was to sleep. Sleep and forget his failure and his shame. He wanted to forget that Lu Ten was dead and he wasn’t. He wanted to forget that everything, all the destruction, all the devastation, was for nothing. So many brave young men would never come home.

He stripped out of the rest of his clothes, crawled naked into his featherbed, and pulled the covers up over his head.

He was walking through a mist in the darkness, searching for his son. He tried to light a flame in his hand to show the way, but the fire wouldn’t come. He tried to call out Lu Ten’s name, but the words caught in his throat, and he couldn’t speak. Boulders tumbled from the sky, and in the distance the fires burned, sending out thick black smoke.

He was surrounded by the bodies of the fallen. The corpses wore red and the corpses wore green; they were crushed and burned beyond recognition, all mingled together, and scavengers feasted on Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation alike.

Something moved up ahead. Could it possibly be? Yes, it was! Iroh’s son, his beloved boy. He could bring him back; he knew he could. Everything would all right if only he could reach his son. Iroh ran as fast as he could go, sending the ravens scattering.

Just as he reached for Lu Ten, the moment his fingertips brushed the boy’s sleeve, Lu Ten vanished and Iroh was alone in the mist. The bodies, the fires, everything else was gone.

Iroh fell to his knees and cried out. Lu Ten had been within his grasp, he’d touched him, and still he failed. He hadn’t saved his son. The spirits were cruel to take everything away from him, his son, his victory, his destiny. Why had he had that vision? Had it all been a lie? He knelt on the cold ground for a long time, his face buried in his hands.

Darkness fell.

Far off in the distance, a faint light shone ahead. Not a flickering light, like a flame, but a steady, soft glow. Somehow, Iroh knew he needed to get to that light. Whatever it was, it held the answers he sought. It would lead him out of this terrible darkness.

A path appeared at his feet. It was narrow and twisted, and overgrown with grass, but it was a path. It was hope. Iroh hurried down it, toward the light.

He could see something moving, some kind of creature. A long sinuous tail whipped across the path, before being swallowed by the mist. It was hard to tell, but it might have been red. What could be lurking out there, waiting to devour him? It didn’t matter; he must keep going.

The path seemed to stretch forever. It twisted this way and that, sometimes even doubling back on itself. Twice Iroh lost sight of the light, and he stumbled in the dark. But just as he would despair of ever finding his way again, the light would reappear in the distance, and he was able to see the path again.

He was closing the gap now. The light was growing brighter and stronger, and he could see the creature whose tail he’d glimpsed earlier. It was a dragon, and it was waiting for him. It was huge, with scales of deepest scarlet and broad leathery wings. Its feet were tipped with sharp curving claws. It lowered its long graceful neck so that its great horned head was on a level with Iroh, and it seemed to beckon him with wise yellow eyes.

For a long moment, Iroh and the dragon looked into each other’s eyes. Iroh could feel the majestic creature looking right through him, down into his very soul. He trembled, and knew that he was not worthy. He was a disgrace and a failure. The dragon’s whiskers twitched. Iroh braced himself for the flames; they never came.

Instead, the scarlet dragon took flight and dove into a deep blue lake that had suddenly appeared from the mist.

Iroh crept to the edge of the water. He knew, somehow, that the dragon wanted him to follow it. But the sight of that deep still water frightened him. It was ominous, somehow.

“Iroh.”

The voice startled him. It was strangely familiar, like a half-forgotten lullaby. He looked around, but no one was there. It was only Iroh, and the cold white mist, and the unnaturally still waters of the lake. Even the path was gone, now.

“Don’t you know me?” The mists swirled, though there was no wind, and a woman took shape before his eyes. She was of medium height, plump and lovely, with long glossy black hair and sad brown eyes. He’d forgotten much of her face, he realized now, even as he wondered how it was possible for him to have forgotten such a thing. She cradled a flame in her palm, and its flickering light bathed her face in warmth.

“Mother?” he asked in wonder.

She smiled sadly, and reached out to cup his face. Iroh closed his eyes and leaned into her palm. She smelled of jasmine flowers. _Her favorites,_ he remembered now.

His mother had been dead for over thirty years, of a summer chill when Ozai was two. His birth had been hard for her, and she’d never recovered from it completely.

But Iroh had found her. Maybe there was still hope. He could find Lu Ten, he could—

“No, my son. You will not find what you seek. No one ever comes back.”

He gasped. “How did you know why I came?”

“Because you have lost your son.” She put out her flame, and took his hand in both of hers. They were as pale and cold as marble. “Any parent would want their son back.” Tears ran silently down her pale cheeks. “If it were possible to come back, I never would have left my sons.”

“Then why?” he cried out in despair. “Why have I come here if there was no hope?”

She kissed him on his forehead, like she used to do when he was a little boy. “You must follow the dragon.”

Iroh looked at the lake. It seemed even deeper and more sinister than before. He turned to look back at his mother, and she was less solid, somehow, as if she was slowly becoming part of the mist.

Iroh didn’t want to follow the red dragon. He’d visited dragons once before, in the heart of the ancient Sun Warrior civilization. He had stood on the narrow stone bridge, high above the ground, while the warriors chanted and drummed in a circle around the sun mosaic laid out on the bottom of the gorge. The dragons had emerged from their caves and swooped around him, again and again, as he’d lifted the sacred flame high above his head, an offering for the firebending masters. He’d felt so tiny and insignificant as he’d stood there, waiting for their judgement. Then they’d surrounded him with their bright fire, every color of the rainbow. Aside from newborn Lu Ten, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

When he was standing in the circle of dragon flame, filled with awe and wonder, he’d had the vision again. He’d first been given the vision when he was a boy, before Ozai was born. He was eleven, perhaps, or twelve; he couldn’t quite remember. In this vision, he’d stood on the steps of the Earth King’s palace in Ba Sing Se, triumphant.

He knew then that he was destined to conquer Ba Sing Se. He had fought for six hundred days, and he’d lost everything chasing his destiny. Why had it all gone so wrong?

Whatever that dragon had to show him, he didn’t want to see it. What other horrible things might happen? What else might he lose?

“I know that you’re afraid, but you must put your fear aside,” his mother said. He could barely see her, she was swirling and dissolving into the thick white mist. “Be brave, my son. Face whatever it is the dragon has to show you.” She was completely gone, not even the scent of her perfume lingered behind.

The light was fading, and the only thing left in the world was the lake. There was nothing behind him but darkness. He couldn’t stay here alone, afraid of a lake. He was the mighty Dragon of the West, or at least he used to be.

Iroh straightened his spine, took a deep breath, and plunged straight into the dark still waters.

The water was ice cold, like a thousand tiny needles stabbing his skin. It pulled at his clothes with strong fingers, and water plants tangled around his limbs, attempting to snare him. Iroh swam deeper and deeper, determined to reach the dragon. His lungs ached and burned with the need for air, but he swam on and on, through the blackness. He was beginning to feel light-headed, but he couldn’t turn back now, so he kept swimming, towards what, he did not know. The lake seemed to stretch endlessly.

 _There is nothing here,_ he thought. _I will surely drown._ That thought didn’t seem so bad to Iroh. A father should never outlive his son. He would end his life tangled in the seaweed, food for any little fishes that might live in these frigid depths. It was all that he deserved.

Then the water ended, and he fell to the ground with a _thump._ He gasped and choked and sputtered, and coughed up what felt like gallons of murky water. He rolled onto his back, and lay dripping wet and naked, breathing in the sweet fresh air. Had he lost his clothes in the lake?

He sat up and pushed the hair out of his eyes. Somehow, he was twenty feet below the dragon cave. How had he gotten to the Sun Warriors’ island? There was no lake near the cave of the dragons, he knew. He looked behind him, but the lake was gone. There was only a rocky cliffside, even though he knew he’d fallen on soft, level ground. Above him, there was only bright blue sky and puffy white clouds.

He saw the dragon’s scarlet tail disappear into the mouth of the cave.

Grunting, Iroh pulled himself to his feet and began to climb. It was shockingly easy, considering the sheer face of the cliff and the fact that he was barefoot. _Is this what it feels like to be an Earthbender?_ He pushed the ridiculous thought away and focused only on reaching the dragon’s lair.

When he got there, the cave was empty. His heart sank. Maybe this dragon hadn’t roasted him where he stood, but it clearly did not wish to grant him any visions.

But wait, far in the depths of the rock, a light glowed. The same warm steady light he’d first seen on the misty plain. He walked towards it, and when the ceiling of the cave became too low for him to stand, he crawled on his hands and knees. There was a crack in the back wall of the cave, and the light spilled through it. Rocks blocked the way, so he shifted them aside until there was a gap just big enough for him to squeeze through if he sucked in his belly.

He wriggled and pushed his way through, and stumbled out into the open air. Clouds swirled around his ankles. There was no ground, only sky, but it felt solid and real beneath his feet. He was dry now, and clothed, thankfully, though the white trousers and tunic were not his own, nor were the simple straw sandals on his feet. _White for mourning._

A shadow passed overhead, blocking the sun. A dragon! But it was not the one he sought. This dragon was a vivid blue, golden horns flashing in the light. Iroh felt a breeze stirring, and turned to look behind him. A green dragon dove down into the clouds. There was another, and another, and suddenly the sky was filled with dragons. There were hundreds of them, twining and twisting their long bodies through the air. They were blue and green, orange and yellow. And there were dozens and dozens of red ones.

It was an incredible sight. When he had first sought the glory of the dragons, there had only been one red and one blue. Ran and Shaw, the firebending dragons. He had thought they were the only ones left in the world. For a long time, Iroh simply stared, awestruck.

He had nearly forgotten why he’d come all this way when the dragon he was searching for landed in front of him. And then Iroh remembered. He remembered everything, the battle, his son’s death, and the vision that had started it all. He remembered how desperately he wanted to bring his boy back, to take his place in the afterlife so that Lu Ten might live.

“Why?” he demanded. “Why did I have that vision? In my vision I was destined for honor and glory, a great man to be remembered in the history books. We should have been victorious, I saw it! It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. My son! My boy, my brave strong boy, he’s gone! And I am left behind, a bitter old man filled with grief and regret. That vision was cruel.” He would have wept if he’d had any tears left, but he’d cried them all, and now he was nothing but a dry empty husk.

The dragon touched his forehead with one long whisker, in the place where his dead mother had kissed him with cold lips. _You have misunderstood entirely,_ the dragon’s deep voice rumbled inside Iroh’s mind, inside his heart. It wasn’t a physical voice; it was more like a consciousness deep inside himself. _Your ancestors misunderstood, as well. The world has been thrown deeply out of balance because of your family. Your great-grandfather Sozin murdered Avatar Roku, who had been a friend closer than any brother, because he stood in the way of Sozin’s ambition. Eventually, Sozin betrayed his own dragon as well. Sozin had perverted the very nature of firebending, and without the dragons it was easier to lie to his people and himself. He said that he had claimed the mighty powers of the dragon for himself when he slayed it. Anyone who killed a dragon would claim its power, he promised, and so we reduced to mere trophies._

_Your grandfather Zhang and father Azulon continued in his destructive path, so we fled. First to the island of the Sun Warriors, then west beyond the Fire Nation, and even beyond the physical world. Even you, Iroh son of Ilah and Fire Lord Azulon, sought us out only to win the glory that came with being named dragon-slayer. We gave humanity the gift of fire, and taught the art of firebending to your people, and this is how we were repaid, hunted down like common vermin._

_But despite all of this, you were still judged to be worthy, General Iroh, Dragon of the West. You were given a_ gift, _a vision of your destiny. Not to be a conqueror, but a_ liberator. _You are the crown prince of the Fire Nation. You have the ability to change the world, to quench the raging wildfire that Sozin began. But you spurned the vision and knowledge of true firebending both. You fancied yourself a fearsome warrior, a great man._ The dragon seemed to mock him. _You marched on Ba Sing Se, with your brilliant young son in a position of command, and you sieged the city for six hundred days. Nothing could convince you to pull back, so obsessed were you with your destiny. You have no one to blame but yourself for the loss of your son._

Iroh bowed his head in shame. “You’re right,” he said. “My arrogance has cost me much. But my son should not have to pay for my mistakes. Please, let me take Lu Ten’s place. I’m the one who proved myself unworthy. Please, I beg you.”

The dragon regarded him a moment, then placed its whisker to Iroh’s forehead once more. _Your son was not punished. His death was simply a consequence of your choices. It was not a deliberate choice, but mere chance._

“There must be something I can do, anything! Please!” The desperation clawed inside him like a living thing. “Why did you bring me here if there was no hope?”

 _I did not bring you here,_ the dragon’s voice said. _You came yourself, though you knew you would fail._

Iroh closed his eyes in defeat. A part of him had always known it was hopeless. The dragon was silent a long time, then he said, _There is one spirit who may be able to help you, but he is dangerous. It would be far better if you returned home. It is not too late; you can still fulfill the potential that the masters saw in you._

Iroh’s eyes flew open, and his heart seized on this tiny scrap of hope. “Who is this spirit?”

_The spirit’s name is Koh. He is an ancient spirit, nearly as old as the ocean and the moon. He crawled out of the depths in the beginning, but had no face of his own, and so he steals the faces of others._

“He steals faces?”

_Yes. Animals, other spirits that are less powerful than he is. But he is especially fond of human faces. You must show absolutely no emotion, or he will steal your face._

His face would be a small price to pay to return Lu Ten to the world of the living. “Where might I find this Koh?”

In an instant, the dragon disappeared and Iroh was alone in a swamp. A huge bare tree twisted towards the sky. Between the exposed roots was an opening that led to a dark cool cavern under the earth. Carefully, he made his way inside. Pebbles shifted under his feet and fell to the dirt floor below, but somehow, he kept his balance. “I’m looking for a spirit known as Koh,” he called into the darkness.

The ground was damp beneath his sandals, and he could hear a steady _drip_ , _drip_ , _drip_ of water. The whole place had a sickly-sweet smell of rot and decay. There was a scuttle of hundreds of legs, behind him, above him. The shadows shifted, but it was too dim for his eyes to make anything out.

Then something dropped from the earthen ceiling, and a hideous tusked blue and white face with bulging eyes was an inch from Iroh’s nose. Iroh kept his own face completely neutral. He must keep his composure if he wished to rescue his son. Iroh bowed before the creature respectfully. “Do I have the honor to address the spirit known as Koh?”

“You do.” Koh lowered his long insect-like body completely from the ceiling. “My, my, a human has sought me out. I so rarely have visitors. And the crown prince of the Fire Nation, no less. This is a special day indeed.”

The spirit circled Iroh slowly as it spoke, hundreds of legs tapping out a sharp rhythm. Koh’s stolen face was on the very end of his long coiling body, in the center of what appeared to be a massive eyelid. Four pairs of deadly-looking pincers surrounded it. He blinked the eyelid and a new face appeared, chalk white with blood red lips and painted eyes. “What brings such a distinguished guest to my humble home?” The spirit was constantly prowling, up to the ceiling, over and back down, in front of Iroh and behind, before going up again, winding his long body slowly in a figure eight.

“My son was killed in a battle. It was my fault.” It took all of Iroh’s energy to keep his voice even and his face blank.

Koh blinked again, and his face was an old wrinkled woman, her long white hair falling down loose. “How tragic,” he said, turning away. His voice was the same no matter what face he wore. Deep and dark, soothing and unnerving at the same time.

 _And condescending,_ Iroh thought. Just for a split second, his brow pinched in anger at Koh’s remark. Koh must have sensed it somehow, because he whirled around and thrust a screeching monkey’s face right up into Iroh’s, fangs bared and dripping. Iroh’s heart hammered in his chest, but his face was blessedly blank when Koh turned. “The dragon told me that you might know a way for me to take my son’s place,” he said with a calmness he did not feel.

“He did?” Koh said in a surprised tone as he blinked again. This face was a fierce-looking man. _Drip_ , _drip_ , _drip_ went the water. Koh’s body writhed and twisted in the dark gloom of the cavern, his legs scuttling _tap_ , _tap_ , _tappity_ , _tap_ , _tap_ rapidly, working his way slightly closer to Iroh with every pass. And all the while, his eye blinked and he changed faces: an owl, a small girl, a brightly colored sea-serpent, a horned demon, before returning to the painted white face.

“Well,” he finally said, red lips smiling, “I don’t know anything about giving things back. I only take them. And even if I did,” he murmured, coiling his body around Iroh tightly, “I wouldn’t help you. Why only choose one face, when I could have the set?”

Koh blinked, and Lu Ten’s face looked out from the eyelid on the end of his grotesque body, pincers poised to strike. Iroh screamed, and knew that all hope was lost.

Iroh bolted upright in his bed, breathing hard. His heart was pounding, and he was drenched in sweat. Something was tangled in his limbs, trapping him. Panicked, he struggled and kicked himself free, then threw it across the room. Only when it landed in a soft heap on the floor did he realize it wasn’t Koh’s insectoid body, but simply his bedclothes.

The bedroom was completely dark. How long had he been asleep? When his heartbeat slowed and he was able to get his breathing under control, he lit the candle on his bedside table.

His armor had been cleared away, he saw, along with his wet clothing. Someone had dried the floor as well, and left a teapot on the low table on the other side of the room, along with a cup, saucer, and an assortment of small cakes. Iroh couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. Was it breakfast yesterday? Or supper the day before?

He dressed himself in simple garments and crossed the room to the table, poured a cup of cold tea, and heated it with his hands until it was steaming. It was ginseng, his favorite. He nibbled one of the cakes, but it was like ashes in his mouth. He pushed the plate away.

Iroh sipped his tea, and closed his eyes and sighed. There was no getting Lu Ten back, he knew that now. It had been a foolish notion, a desperate attempt by a man sick with grief.

When they’d first brought him news of his son’s death, he’d refused to believe it. Then he’d convinced himself that he could bring the boy back. The prince of the Fire Nation was sure to be a match for any spirit beings, he’d thought in his arrogance. He had fasted and meditated and prayed for days in an attempt to reach the spirit world. His destiny, the Fire Nation’s war, none of that mattered any more. The only thing that mattered was his son.

His attempts to reach the spirit world in the Earth Kingdom had failed, though. Determined, he’d set sail for the Fire Nation, to the island of the Sun Warriors. He hadn’t wanted to see any of the tribespeople, however, so he’d gone to the far side of the mountains before beginning his climb.

For four days he’d consumed nothing but a little water. He’d meditated for hours at a time, followed by hours of prayer. He had prayed to Agni, the father of flame, and to his daughter the sun spirit Aterasu, who was the mother of dragons. He had even prayed to the lord of the underworld, who shrouds his face in shadow and escorts the dead to the afterlife.

He saw it on the day of the equinox, a bright red dragon’s tail slipping into a cave one hundred feet above his head. Taking that as a sign, he’d followed it. The climb was slow and difficult, and three times he’d nearly fallen. When he reached the cave, his hands were scratched and bleeding, and his arms and legs ached with the effort of pulling his body up the rocks.

Just like his dream, there had been nothing in the cave but light. And just like his dream, he’d gone through the opening, and into the spirit world. His encounter with dragons was nearly exactly as he’d just dreamed. The scarlet dragon didn’t send him after Koh, though. Iroh had stumbled upon him in a reckless attempt to keep searching for Lu Ten. Koh didn’t have Lu Ten’s face, but Iroh had very nearly lost his own.

When he’d emerged from that cave, his hair and beard had gone completely gray.

He took another sip of ginseng tea, and looked at the portraits. His late wife and royal mother hung side by side, watching him. Had his mother’s dark eyes always looked so sad in this painting? Or was he remembering how she’d looked when she’d come to him in the dream? The artist hadn’t quite gotten her features right, Iroh decided. Her nose had been different than that, and her chin had been less rounded. The dream had somehow awoken long forgotten memories within him.

It had been years since he’d really thought about his mother. He honored her memory when it was required, of course, but it had been a mere task to complete, not something he’d put his heart into. He’d had a war to win; there was no time to waste on sentimentality. Iroh rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. His pursuit of destiny had made him a poor son in addition to a terrible father, it seemed. Now he was feeling her loss as keenly as if she’d just died. His own father had never been the same after her death, not truly.

His wife Lien hung next to her, equally neglected. She’d died of a lung sickness when Lu Ten was eight. _Are the two of you together now, Lien? Do you hate me for getting our son killed?_

The portrait’s eyes were done in black ink, but he remembered the way they’d looked when she was alive, a dark smoky gray, so expressive. One minute they would be sparkling with laughter, but they could change to anger as quickly as a summer storm. He thought of how she might look at him now, and he was glad it was only a portrait. _Take good care of our son,_ he thought. _I tried, but I failed him. You couldn’t possibly hate me any more than I hate myself._

Iroh had ended up sacrificing his beloved Lu Ten for pride and a false vision.

The room was slowly lightening around him, and he could feel the sun peeking over the horizon, filling him with energy. A servant came into the room, placed a breakfast tray at his elbow, and cleared away the old one. There was rice, soup, smoked fish, pickled vegetables, a new pot of tea, and freshly sliced mango. Iroh knew he needed to eat, so he forced down some of the rice. He couldn’t bear to touch the mango. Lu Ten had always been so fond of it.

He was still brooding over his vision and the dream, and the ghosts they’d awoken within him when his father came in.

Iroh started to bow before the Fire Lord, but he waved a wrinkled and spotted hand. “Don’t bother with that nonsense.” If the Fire Lord had noticed his oldest son’s gray hair and haggard face, he was gracious enough not to mention it. He seated himself on the floor next to Iroh . Sunlight flashed on the gold flame nestled in his long white hair. “You were gone a long time, my son,” he said, sounding weary. Had his father looked this old and frail when Iroh had set sail for Ba Sing Se?

“I know, Father. I had much to think about,” he said quietly.

“A personal journey of sorts?”

Iroh’s throat tightened, and he nodded, not trusting his voice. He dreaded what the Fire Lord might say.

Fire Lord Azulon sighed and patted his son’s hand. “Lu Ten was a model young prince. We shall all miss him. You needed that time away, to grieve.” Father’s sharp eyes took in the nearly untouched breakfast tray. “You cannot live on tea and a bit of rice.”

Iroh pulled away and folded his hands in his lap. “I don’t have much appetite,” he said, relieved that he was being lectured about nutrition. That was far preferable to the anger and disappointment he’d expected.

“It will come back eventually. In the meantime, you mustn’t starve yourself.” The Fire Lord poured a cup of tea for himself. He breathed in the scent deeply before taking a careful sip. “Jasmine. It always reminds me of your mother, even after all of these years.”

Silence stretched for a long moment, until the Fire Lord set down his cup with a clatter. “It is unfortunate that the siege was lost, but it’s nothing the Fire Nation can’t handle. We shall subdue the Earth Kingdom soon enough.”

“Hmmm, yes,” Iroh agreed, though he wasn’t sure it was worth it anymore. He tasted a bit of the smoked fish, and made himself take a second bite. This seemed to please his father.

“It’s time you were out of the field, anyway. You’ve already proven yourself to be a cunning warrior and a shrewd commander. Soon, it will come time for you to rule this nation. Now is the time to learn by my side, while I am still here to guide you.”

 _He expects to die soon,_ Iroh thought. _Not right away, but how long does he have left? Five years? More, less?_ His father had seemed to become an old man overnight, though of course he knew it had been closer to three years since they’d met. And at nearly seventy-seven years old, Father had to be aware that his life was near its end, even if he enjoyed good health currently.

“Your princely duties shall require you to spend most of your time here in Caldera City,” Father continued, “which is fortunate, because it will allow you to acquaint yourself with a number of suitable young ladies?”

That was the last thing Iroh had expected his father to say. “Young ladies?” he echoed, confused.

“You shall need to choose a second wife,” the Fire Lord said. “When you were first widowed, I didn’t insist on your remarriage because you had Lu Ten, but now…” He trailed off, as if unsure of what he wanted to say. “A prince must have an heir, Iroh,” he said gently.

 _A replacement child._ The thought was like a knife in his heart. Iroh drank his tea and said, “Of course. But what about my brother?”

Fire Lord Azulon’s yellow eyes hardened at the mention of Ozai. “That foolish boy isn’t fit to lead the Fire Nation, you know this. He’s hot-tempered and rash, vain and selfish. This nation requires a strong leader, someone level-headed, with military experience. Not a petulant child.”

 _You’re the reason Ozai has no military experience,_ Iroh thought, though he knew better than to say so out loud. And at well past thirty, Ozai could hardly be considered a child, though he certainly was both hot-tempered and vain.

The Fire Lord’s expression softened, and he put a thin arm around Iroh’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “You need not worry about taking a wife right away. I know what it is like to lose a child; no one will ever replace your beloved Lu Ten.”

There had been three children born between Iroh and his brother Ozai, two girls and a boy. None of them had survived infancy. Everyone had thought Fire Lord Azulon would be thrilled with his surviving son; Princess Ilah had certainly doted on the boy. But Azulon had never really connected with him. He’d had a war to fight, and perhaps he’d closed off that part of himself after having lost three children. And then his much-loved wife had passed away, and the Fire Lord became even colder towards his second son. Iroh was nineteen years older than his baby brother, and busy with matters far more important than looking after a toddler. Ozai had been relegated to his nanny’s care, trotted out occasionally for their father’s viewing. The brothers had never been close. _Another failure to lay at my feet._

“However,” Father said as he handed Iroh a stack of papers, “I’ve taken the liberty of compiling some suggestions of suitable ladies. When you feel a bit better, perhaps you might peruse them and see if any catches your eye.”

Iroh scanned the papers briefly. On each was a portrait and brief biography of the daughters and granddaughters of many nobles and highly-ranked officials. They were very beautiful, all of them were firebenders, and each of them was young enough to be his daughter.

“Your sister-in-law was most _unhelpful_ in this endeavor,” his father complained.

Seizing on the change of subject, Iroh put the papers aside and said, “Where is the lovely Princess Ursa? And the children? I was looking forward to seeing them all again.”

“The princess,” Father replied, “has gone to negotiate an alliance with the Northern Water Tribe. Against my advice, she has taken the children with her. However, she has assured me that she wouldn’t take them into Water Tribe territory before favorable terms were secured.” He frowned deeply, his wrinkles becoming even more pronounced. “She really is _far_ too sentimental where those children are concerned. They need discipline, not coddling; especially the boy. But she wouldn’t hear of going without them. She insisted that with Prince Ozai gone they needed to be with their mother.”

“Gone? Where has my brother gone?” Ozai up and leaving the palace was almost as shocking as the idea of an alliance with one of the Water Tribes.

Father huffed in annoyance. “That foolish boy had the audacity to ask me to give him your birthright. He thought that he was so clever, too, trying to use his daughter to sway me. As if I could possibly betray you, my firstborn, simply because his daughter has memorized a few historical battle facts and has a decent grasp of firebending.”

Iroh raised a busy gray eyebrow at that. Princess Azula was an exceptionally talented firebender. She’d been born at high noon on the summer solstice, and it was confirmed that she was a firebender at age three. Most children didn’t show the signs until five or six. Everyone affirmed the little girl to be a prodigy. Everyone except her grandfather.

“Fine, the girl is talented,” Fire Lord Azulon admitted grudgingly. “But her father pushes her through the sets too quickly. If she keeps up that pace, she will burn out. Slow and steady, that’s the proper way, but Ozai never did have any patience. She needs to be disciplined, honed through trial and difficulty. She’s a show-off, with no real endurance. I may be old, but I’m not senile enough to stake the future of the empire my grandfather built on an untried child of eight and her scheming father.”

So, while Iroh had been mourning his only child, his brother had been plotting against him. Did Ozai truly hate him that much?

“When the boy didn’t get what he wanted, he declared he was off to find the avatar. As if he could,” scoffed Father. “If there was still an avatar to be found, we would have done so already. I searched for him, and my father Zhang searched before me, and his father Sozin searched before him. The avatar doesn’t exist anymore. The cycle was broken a long time ago.”

“Do you think it wise to allow this quest, then?” Iroh asked carefully.

“If your brother wants to waste his time on a fool’s errand, let him. He’ll come crawling back eventually, and just maybe it will teach him some humility. Agni knows he needs it.”

“Mmm,” Iroh hummed. “You spoke of an alliance with the Northern Water Tribe?”

“Yes.” His father smiled. “The airbenders are gone, and the Southern Water Tribe is nearly extinct. A few ragged bands of warriors remain, but none that will trouble us, even if they should join the fighting, and they have no benders. An alliance frees us from worrying if today is the day the northerners will oppose us, without the high risks and casualties of a long and bloody siege.” Iroh flinched at that, but his father didn’t notice. “The eastern Earth Kingdom is the only thing standing in the way of a total Fire Nation victory, and we are free to fully focus on it now.”

“I see.” Iroh thought briefly of the dragon, but pushed the thought away. “Prince Zuko or Princess Azula is to marry the chief’s heir, then?” That was the best way to secure such alliances.

“Chief Arnook has one child. A daughter.” _Zuko, then._ The Fire Lord’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “The boy has finally become useful.”

Iroh frowned at that remark. Zuko was a sweet and loving child. Did his father really see his grandchildren as mere tools to be used? Was that how he had seen Lu Ten? “Father, I think you’re too harsh on my brother’s children. They are very young, after all. I certainly don’t recall Lu Ten being particularly useful at that age, either.” He tried to keep his voice neutral, but wasn’t sure he succeeded.

It was the Fire Lord’s turn to frown now. He steepled his fingers together and looked at Iroh with shrewd yellow eyes. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said after a long moment. “After all, a child need not necessarily turn out like his father.”

For a second, he wondered if that was a veiled criticism, if his father was trying to say what a disappointment Iroh had turned out to be. But then his father said, “Especially with an uncle like you to guide them. And Ursa’s not a bad girl, even if she is a little bit silly and overly-indulgent of her children. The boy has courage, at least. A little discipline will set him right. That’s what children need. Perhaps in a few years they could be molded into something to be proud of.”

“Does Ozai know of this alliance?”

“Of course, he knows.”

“What did he think of his son marrying a Water Tribe girl?”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks. It has been decided, and the chief has agreed to it.”

His father was visibly agitated, and Iroh knew he didn’t want to talk about it any longer, but some reckless part of him said, “Are their children to—”

“No!” the Fire Lord thundered in rage. His eyes flashed dangerously, and if the bedside candle had still been burning, its flames would have shot up to scorch the ceiling. He didn’t look frail now. “ _Your_ children are to inherit the throne! This is why you must remarry. Do you think I will ever put a Water Tribe barbarian on the throne of this illustrious empire? I will not sully a royal dynasty that stretches thousands of years back to the very first Fire Lord, who was a daughter of Agni himself.”

Father took a deep breath, and reigned in his ire. When he spoke again, his voice was calm and collected. “No, the Fire Lord must be of pure Fire Nation blood, and a firebender as well. That is why only firebenders are considered as spouses for the royal family. I will not risk a nonbender, or worse, a waterbender to rule the Fire Nation.” He stood up and smoothed the rich scarlet silk of his robes. “I will hear nothing further on this matter, Prince Iroh.”

Iroh bowed his head respectfully. A gentle touch on his shoulder prompted him to look up. “I meant what I said earlier, my son. There is no need to rush into anything; I don’t plan on dying just yet.” His father’s voice was gentle, almost soothing. “The Fire Sages have seen to the funeral arrangements. They shall be held tomorrow.”

Iroh had given Lu Ten a private funeral already, and put up a marker outside of Ba Sing Se. It would be an empty ceremony, without a body to cremate. He hated the thought of a public display, but a prince must be mindful of tradition, and a public display was an essential part of royalty. He would endure it, so that the sages might bless Lu Ten’s ashes, and take them down to rest in the Dragonbone Catacombs, with his mother and grandmother, and all the rest of the royal family.

Fire Lord Azulon paused and turned around at the doorway. “I am glad you’re home, my son. Rest now. There will be plenty of work to do soon.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko travels to the North Pole. He has a brief meeting with his betrothed, and a conversation with his mother about marriage.

The whole city was made of ice. Well, everything but the roads. Those were deep canals of still blue water. Zuko leaned far over the side of the gondola, peering into the depths below. He was hoping to see a school of silvery fish, or maybe a turtle-seal, or—

“Zuko!” Mom cried out in a terrified voice.

Zuko straightened quickly and sat back down. There wasn’t anything down there, anyway. The boat traffic scared all the animals off, he bet.

“Zuko, don’t do that again,” she scolded him. “What if you fell in?”

“I can swim,” he said.

“That’s not the point. This water is freezing, and it could kill you.”

Zuko didn’t think there was anyway that a firebender could freeze, but he didn’t argue. Mom pulled his hood over his head and tucked his thick koala wool cloak more firmly around his body. He let her fuss over him for a few minutes before he pulled away from her and craned his neck to look up at the sky. His hood fell off again, but he didn’t care.

“Do you think it will snow, Mom?” The sky was a bright clear blue with no clouds in sight, but Zuko hoped it would. He’d never seen a snowfall before.

“No, darling, I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s nearly summer now.”

“Will everything melt when summer comes?” Zuko remembered watching the cooks make ice cream one summer on Ember Island. The ice cream was in a big metal bowl set in a larger wooden tub of ice and salt. They’d cranked a handle to churn it, and it had slowly turned from a sweet liquid into ice cream. When they were done, they’d simply dumped the ice out onto the sand, and it had melted away into nothing. He looked around at all of the buildings glittering in the sun like diamonds. It would be sad to think of them melting back into the ocean.

Mom smiled at him. “No, it’s always cold at the North Pole, even in the summer.”

The waterbender propelling their gondola rolled his eyes. He didn’t think that Zuko saw him, but he did. Zuko waited until Mom wasn’t looking, then he stuck his tongue out at the man. Yaling saw him do it, but she turned her head quickly and pretended like she hadn’t. She wouldn’t tell on him, Zuko knew.

He wondered what it would be like to live some place that was always cold, even at the height of summer. It was probably fun for a while. You could build snow forts and go sledding and have lots of warm drinks. You could go whale watching, and fishing, and he just knew it would be amazing to see big fluffy snowflakes slowly floating to the earth. The sun never set in the summer. Lu Ten had told him that once. And in the middle of winter, when it was always night time, the celestial lights would cast their magical glow over the snowy landscape in red, green, and yellow. 

But you would have to be bundled up in thick woolens and furs all the time, and the grown-ups would always say things like, “Keep your ears warm.” Mom would never let him run around barefoot, and she definitely wouldn’t let him go swimming, and what was the point of all this water if you couldn’t go swimming? No beaches meant no sand pagodas, and if it never got hot then people probably never felt like eating ice cream. Zuko bet there weren’t any ash bananas or mangoes, either.

That made him sad, and thinking about Lu Ten made him sad, too. Lu Ten would never spend another summer at Ember Island with them. He wouldn’t be there to help Zuko build giant sand pagodas, or chase him and Azula in the surf. Zuko looked down at his hands, a lump in the back of his throat. He hoped Uncle Iroh was okay.

“Zuko?” Mom stroked his hair and brought her hand under his chin. She tilted his head up so that she could see his face. “Are you okay, honey?”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, Mom. I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?” she asked. “Nothing’s bothering you? You know, you can tell me anything, right?”

He nodded. “I know, Mom. I’m fine. I promise.”

“Well, if you’re sure…” she hesitated.

“I am.”

Mom smiled and squeezed his hand. “Good, because it’s time to greet the chief and meet your future bride.”

The gondola was approaching the palace now. It was a tall building surrounded by waterfalls. There were two large pools of water in the frozen courtyard, and tall ice columns carved with animal faces looked down on them. There were ice bears, fish, wolves, and whales.

Zuko followed Mom and the others to the bottom of the palace steps, where a group of fierce-looking Water Tribe warriors armed with spears waited, their faces painted in patterns of black, white, and gray. Their leader inclined his head very slightly. “This way, Princess.”

They followed him up the steps and into the palace. The Water Tribe throne room was a lot less scary than his grandfather’s. The waterfall made a soothing sound, and the ice of the ceiling was almost as thin and clear as glass in some parts, letting in lots of natural sunlight.

Grandfather’s throne room was all dark polished wood, only lit by the fires separating the dais from the rest of the room. Sometimes, when Grandfather was angry, the flames surged and gave off stifling heat. And even though it was a huge room, it still felt oppressive, as if he were trapped in the little black lacquer box his mother kept some of her jewelry in.

The Water Tribe throne room may have been sunny, but it was cold. Zuko thought it might even be colder than it was outside in the courtyard. The only warmth was the huge blue rug on the floor. Even the throne was a long, tiered slab of bare ice. There were no furs, no blankets, and no cushions of any kind. Four old men sat on the top tier, as dignified and still as if they were carved of stone. A fifth old man sat on the bottom tier, his expression sour.

On his right sat a man a little bit older than Dad with a short brown beard and long brown hair that he wore partially pulled back in beaded braids. Zuko remembered Mom telling him that was Chief Arnook. On the other end of the ice, a dark-haired woman perched on her knees, her back rigid, her mouth set in a grim line.

Between them knelt a little girl Zuko’s own age, hands folded neatly in her lap. Her back was straight, and she held her head high and proud. Her bright white hair was pulled into two large loops on the top of her head, and two long white braids fell past her shoulders, framing her delicate-looking face. He’d never seen hair that color before. It was luminous, almost. It was beautiful. Her large eyes were a pale blue, like early morning mist on a river. She regarded him curiously, but it seemed to Zuko as if everyone else would like to freeze him where he stood. He shivered.

The guard who’d led them to the throne room thumped the butt of his spear on the ground, and called out in a booming voice, “Princess Ursa of the Fire Nation, and her son, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation.” Zuko and Mom bowed to the chief and his family.

Chief Arnook inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Princess Ursa, Prince Zuko,” he greeted them in a tone of cool politeness. “I hope your journey has been well.”

“It has indeed, Chief Arnook. Thank you for asking,” Mom replied in an equally chilly, yet somehow still perfectly polite, fashion.

“I’m glad to hear it.” The chief smiled, but there was no warmth in his blue eyes. He placed a large hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “May I present my daughter, Princess Yue?”

They bowed again. Mom said, “We are honored, Princess Yue.” She sounded more like herself this time.

Zuko recited the words his mother had taught him to say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I am honored to accept you as my betrothed, and look forward to knowing you better.” The words sounded awkward and clumsy in his ears.

Yue’s eyes darted to her father before she nodded stiffly at Zuko. “I thank you for your kind words. May we have many happy years together, and bring prosperity and peace to our two great nations.” Yue’s voice was calm and confident, like she was comfortable with public speaking.

“We have prepared accommodations in the barracks for your soldiers,” Chief Arnook said. “With the men separated from the women, of course.”

“Of course,” Mom said, irritated at the addition.

Chief Arnook kept talking, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Captains and officers have guest huts near the palace, as do yourself and the prince. I’m sure you’re tired after such a long journey.” He raised a hand, and a serving woman appeared from the shadows. “Please show our honored guests to their accommodations.”

The woman stepped forward to lead them from the throne room.

“Thank you, Chief Arnook. I look forward to speaking with you in the morning when everyone is refreshed.”

Just as they reached the door to the throne room, Zuko looked back over his shoulder. A silent tear was falling down Yue’s mother’s cheek. The sour-looking old man was saying something to the chief, too quiet for Zuko to hear. Yue’s pale blue eyes looked right into Zuko’s, and he held her gaze steadily for a long moment before the princess turned away to comfort her mother. Zuko turned back around. It felt wrong to watch them, like he was intruding. It was a relief to step outside into the fresh air.

The guest huts had domed roofs, rounded doors, and arched windows that were only openings in the ice hung with animal skins. More skins covered the floors and hung on the walls, and the low beds were piled high with even more furs. At least they wouldn’t be sleeping on bare ice. There was a firepit in the floor, and shallow stone lamps filled with oil hung from the ceiling.

Zuko couldn’t help but feel disappointed. This was supposed to be guest quarters fit for royalty? Azula would hate it, he knew. She was lucky to be staying in the spa town in the colonies. She could practice firebending, and look for shells and climb trees, and even splash around in the ocean. And, if she somehow got bored with all of that, her tutor was there, too. Zuko couldn’t believe he was jealous that his sister got to do lessons. All he’d been allowed to do was sit around and listen to adults talk; he was so bored that he would be glad to have a history lesson on the march of civilization.

Thinking about Azula, he found that he actually missed her a little bit. This was the first time in his life that he’d ever been away from her, and he’d been thrilled when Mom said Azula would be staying behind. Azula, however, had not been pleased at all.

“Why can’t I come?” she’d demanded as they were preparing to leave.

“I’ve told you already, Azula, this is just a brief trip so that your brother can meet his future bride,” Mom had explained patiently. “It won’t be very exciting; you’ll have much more fun here.” She had put her arm around Azula’s shoulders. “As soon as we’re finished, we’ll come back to pick you up, and we’ll all go home. Maybe we can visit Ember Island soon, that would be fun.”

Azula had pulled away from Mom’s embrace. “No, you can’t do this to me!” She’d stomped her foot in anger, and her boot had struck sparks off the ground. Zuko couldn’t remember the last time Azula had lost even the tiniest bit of control over her fire. “You can’t leave me behind!”

“I know you’re upset, Azula, but it’s just for a little while,” Mom had tried to soothe her.

Azula’s eyes had narrowed and she’d crossed her arms. “If Dad was here, he’d let me go.”

Mom had pressed her lips together firmly and taken a deep breath. “Well, your father isn’t here and it isn’t up for discussion, young lady. We will see you when we get back. Now back to your lessons.”

For half a minute Zuko had thought Azula would argue some more, but in the end, she’d just glared daggers at both of them, spun on her heel, and marched back to her room. Zuko wondered if she’d still be mad when they got back. He hoped not. It would be horrible to be trapped on a ship home with an angry Azula.

“All right, Zuko, time to get ready for bed,” said Mom.

“Bed? But it’s still light outside,” he protested.

“Yes, it is, and it will be for a good portion of the night. You still need to go to sleep.”

Zuko knew it would do no good to argue with her. After he cleaned his teeth, nearly froze to death in the privy, and changed into his pajamas, he slid between the furs piled on the low bed. A short time later, Mom drew the furs over the empty windows and climbed in bedside him.

Zuko was glad Mom was sleeping in the bed with him. It was cold even underneath the furs, and she was toasty warm. He hated to admit it, but even though he was eleven now, he still enjoyed her cuddles and hugs. Dad thought that made him a baby, and maybe he was right. Azula didn’t seem to crave comforting touches the way he did, and most people, including Dad, thought she was perfect. Zuko wasn’t sure what Grandfather thought of her, though. All Zuko knew about their grandfather was that he barely seemed to notice Zuko, as if he were a moth fluttering around a flame, not even worthy of swatting.

“Mom?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, darling?”

“Why are we here?”

“What a silly question,” she answered. The furs over the windows kept out most of the light, but he could hear the smile in her voice. “We’re here for you to meet Princess Yue and to celebrate your betrothal.”

“No, I know that, Mom. I mean why. Why am I getting engaged?” _I’m the family embarrassment._ “And why the Water Tribe princess?” He knew that his father would be furious if he knew one of his children was to marry someone who wasn’t Fire Nation.

Zuko thought briefly of Mai. Ty Lee had said that they were cute together, and Azula seemed to think that Mai liked him, but he wasn’t sure how much of that was real and how much of it had been engineered by Azula to humiliate him. Like that day at the fountain. _Why would anybody like me, anyway? I’m nothing special._ His sister was the special one, the lucky one.

“Anyway, aren’t we too young to be getting married?” he added. He’d certainly never thought about marriage before.

“Well, your grandfather Fire Lord Azulon wishes to form an alliance with the Northern Water Tribe,” Mom explained. “And one of the best ways to do that is through marriage. Chief Arnook has only one child.” Mom’s voice was sad as she added, “And now the Fire Lord has only one grandson.”

That explained a lot. Of course, Grandfather had only chosen him because he couldn’t choose Lu Ten. Mom hugged him tight. “You and Princess Yue aren’t getting married now, this is just a promise that you will get married when you’re older. It’s uncommon to make marriage arrangements at this age in the Fire Nation, but it’s not unheard of, either.”

“Is it uncommon in the Water Tribes, too?” he asked.

“Marriages are typically arranged around age twelve or thirteen. Princess Yue is eleven, just like you, so this arrangement is fairly typical. Children aren’t necessarily told until they’re a little older, though.”

“Do everybody’s parents choose the person they marry?”

“Yes, among the upper classes. Lower class people may choose their own bride, but parents are still heavily involved.”

Zuko was thoughtful for a moment. “So, are all marriages arranged in the Fire Nation, too? What about you and Dad?” Did Grandfather make them get married? Mom and Dad were both so different, it was hard to imagine them choosing each other. Maybe that was why they’d been so unhappy for such a long time, and why Dad had seemed to resent Mom before he’d left them to chase the avatar.

Mom sighed and pulled him closer. For a long time, she just lay quietly, stroking his hair. Zuko could feel the steady beat of her heart.

“Arranged marriages do happen, but they aren’t typical. Many, many people choose their own spouses. Still, people always marry within their own class, and parents will often nudge their children towards suitable partners. Fire Lord Azulon and Princess Ilah were a love match, and both of their parents were very pleased. Uncle Iroh and his wife Princess Lien were arranged, with quite a bit of input from Iroh. The Fire Lord grew tired of waiting for your uncle to marry, but was unwilling to make him marry a woman that he did not like.”

That made sense to Zuko. Uncle must have been so dedicated to his military career that he couldn’t be bothered to find his own wife. He did siege Ba Sing Se for nearly two years, after all.

“My parents’ marriage wasn’t arranged, but their own parents were highly in favor of the match and encouraged it. So of course, when it came time for me to marry, they expected that I would do as they wished. I didn’t.”

“You didn’t?” That surprised Zuko. Mom didn’t exactly seem like the rebellious type. She was always so prim and proper, a calm and graceful princess. Defiance seemed more like something Azula would do.

“Your father was very handsome and charming and charismatic. I’d known him since we were children, just as acquaintances. When I was about fourteen, I had a huge crush on him, but I just knew he’d never look at me, not the way I wanted him to. And then, a few years later, he did. We were married in the summertime, when I was twenty years old.”

It was so weird to think of his mother as a girl only a few years older than he was. And he couldn’t begin to imagine her having a crush on Dad! She barely spent any time with Dad anymore. The last time he could remember them really being together was their family trip to Ember Island three or four years ago. Uncle Iroh and Lu Ten had even come for part of it. Would their family ever be that happy again?

“Were your parents mad?” he asked.

“No. How could they be? Your father was of a much higher station than the boy they’d had in mind for me, after all. A prince. What more could they have wanted for their only daughter?” she said wistfully. Zuko got the feeling that there was a lot she wasn’t telling him.

He said in a small voice, “Do you think Dad will capture the avatar?”

“I think that it’s time for little boys to go to sleep. You’ve had a long day.”

“Is he ever coming home?” _Does he love us at all?_ Where had that thought come from? Of course, Dad loved them. _No,_ a small voice said inside him, _Dad loves Azula, and he might still love Mom in some way, but he doesn’t love you. You’re probably the reason he left in the first place._ Zuko shut his eyes tight and shoved that thought deep down inside. No, no, that wasn’t true. Dad loved him, he _did_! Fathers were supposed to love their sons. Dad just wanted to push him to be better, that was all. His firebending was disappointing, and he’d just have to work harder, that was all. It didn’t matter what Azula said, he could catch up, and he would! He would make his father proud.

Mom adjusted her pillow and kissed his cheek. “I’m sure your father will come home; he can’t sail forever. Good night, Zuko.”

“Good night, Mom.” He closed his eyes, trying not to think about the avatar or his father any more.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess Yue and Prince Zuko play pai sho.

Mama had been crying again. She always tried to hide it, but Yue could tell. Her blue eyes were swollen and puffy, and she had been quiet and subdued all morning.

Mama and Papa hadn’t had any more shouting matches, at least none that Yue had heard, but things between them were still tense. Mama had moved to her own bedroom on the opposite end of the palace, and they only spoke to each other when absolutely necessary, in frosty tones of the utmost civility.

_She would divorce him if it wouldn’t cause a scandal,_ servants whispered when they thought Yue couldn’t hear. _Her father wouldn’t take her back into his house if she did,_ others whispered back. And if Mama were to divorce Papa, Yue knew that she would have even less of a say in her only child’s life than she did now. So, Mama stayed, and was miserable, and both husband and wife tried to pretend like nothing was wrong.

Maybe it would be better after their visitors left. At least it would make pretending easier. It was a lot harder to act like everything was the same as always when the fire princess and her son were staying in Utuqaq, along with a large amount of Fire Nation soldiers.

Yue and Mama were eating breakfast alone again. Papa was too busy to join them these days. Part of Yue was glad because the silence between her parents was awful, but the other part of her missed having her whole family together. She sat with her head bowed, staring at her breakfast.

Sometimes she wished that she was a fish, and could swim far away. Fish didn’t have families, or responsibilities. If she was a fish, she would be free. But she would also always be cold and wet, and all alone. No one ever hugged a fish. Yue decided it was better to be a human girl after all.

“You’ve been given the morning off from your lessons.”

Yue tore her gaze from her breakfast and sat up straight, startled by the sudden intrusion on her thoughts. “What? Why?” she blurted out. Then she winced, sure that Mama was going to scold her for such an unladylike outburst.

“Everyone is very busy right now, preparing for the feast in a few days’ time,” Mama said, not bothering to correct her. She brushed the crumbs from her fingers. “It has been suggested that you entertain the prince this morning,” she added in a brittle voice.

The prince? The thought of spending time with him made Yue a little nervous. She’d only really seen him once, during their formal introduction, and he’d seemed shy and awkward. He’d been in Utuqaq for nearly a week, but he was always by his mother’s side, or a female soldier when the princess was too busy.

Yue was fascinated by the female soldiers, though she tried very hard not to let it show. It seemed disloyal, and she felt guilty about it. They were part of a foreign army, after all. But she couldn’t help it. She’d had no idea women could even be soldiers.

Such a thing was completely unheard of in the Water Tribe. Men and women had very separate roles in society.

Women brought up children and prepared food. They prepared animal skins for clothing, and sewed and embroidered. They kept their homes neat and clean, and wove baskets and spun the soft inner wool of reindeer-oxen into thick warm yarn. They collected berries, roots, and eggs. If they were waterbenders, they served as healers and midwives. Occasionally a woman might serve as a spiritual guide.

With or without waterbending, men were warriors. Men made the decisions for their families; they arranged marriages and brokered trade. They hunted and fished and made weapons. They built boats and kayaks, and kept them in good shape. Men made the dwellings and public buildings. They carved beautiful things from ivory and driftwood during the dark winter months. The chief of the Water Tribe was always a man, and so was every member of the council of elders.

Yue had never known it could be any different. It had just always been that way.

Mama sighed deeply. “I have to finalize the menu and speak with the cooks this morning, so your Aunt Manami will be supervising the two of you. I’m counting on you to act like a proper young lady and princess of the Water Tribe.” She gave Yue a stern look, and it was almost like the old Mama was back. “I’ll not have it said that the Water Tribe throws a poor feast.”

Mama gathered up her skirts and turned to go, then changed her mind and walked over to Yue and kissed her on the top of the head. Yue flung her arms around Mama’s waist and hugged her tight. Having a family might hurt sometimes, but it was worth it. After a long minute, Mama pulled away. “If you end up playing pai sho, make sure you win.”

Yue was shocked into speechlessness, then she grinned. She hoped Prince Zuko was more fun to play with than Hahn.

An hour later, Yue and Aunt Manami were waiting for Prince Zuko and his escort in the game room. Yue was wearing her best purple dress with the high fur-trimmed collar, and her long white hair was done up in the formal style, with the loops on top of her head and the two plaits framing her face. Yue hated that style; it made her neck stiff, but the maids had insisted.

Aunt Manami’s dress was equally formal, but it was dark blue instead of purple, and her neckline was low enough to show her betrothal necklace, a smooth blue stone carved with wavy lines to suggest a flowing river. Aunt Manami was Mama’s youngest sister. At nineteen years old, sometimes Yue felt like she was more of a big sister than an aunt.

“Aunt Manami?” Yue asked.

“Yes?”

“Do you like being married?” Aunt Manami had just gotten married to a young waterbender last summer.

“Oh, I suppose so. It’s nice to have a home of your own,” Manami said mildly. “And I do look forward to having children, which does require a husband,” she added with a bit of a sly smile.

That wasn’t the answer Yue wanted. “But what about your husband? Do you like him?”

Aunt Manami thought for a moment. “He’s a good man, and a talented waterbender. He takes good care of me, and he treats me with respect. Yes, I like him well enough.”

_Well enough?_ What did that even mean? “If you were free to choose your own husband, would you still have picked him?” Yue pressed.

“Yue, I know you must be anxious—”

“If Grandpa hadn’t picked him for you, would you still have married him?” she interrupted.

Aunt Manami sighed. “Probably not,” she admitted. “But I know my father had the best interests of his girls at heart when he arranged all of our marriages, and I have no cause to complain,” she added quickly. “It is a father’s duty to guide his children, and choosing a spouse is such an important decision, what sort of father would leave something like that up to chance? I am sure that we will grow to be very happy together. All three of my sisters were very pleased with their matches.”

Yue looked down at her hands. “But what if you don’t stay happy?” she whispered.

“Is this about your parents?”

Yue hesitated, then she realized that Aunt Manami must know at least some of what was going on, or she wouldn’t have asked. “Yes.”

Aunt Manami scooted closer to Yue and put an arm around her shoulders. “Oh, sweet girl. Your parents have been happily married for many years. This is just a rough patch, that’s all. Your poor mother is very unhappy right now, but things will get better.”

Yue felt a lump in her throat as she whispered, “The servants say she wants a divorce.”

Aunt Manami scoffed at that. “The servants need to mind their tongues. I know my sister; she doesn’t want a divorce. Ummi has always been very mindful of her duty, and she was thrilled when her engagement to your father was announced. She will come around.”

What Aunt Manami said made sense, but Yue wasn’t so sure. Manami hadn’t heard the arguing, or the crying, and she probably didn’t know about Mama’s new bedroom, either. Yue twisted her skirt in her hands nervously and didn’t say anything else.

Aunt Manami reached out and gently took Yue’s hands in hers. “I know you’re scared,” she said, looking into Yue’s eyes. “I would be scared, too. But you’re a strong brave girl, and you can do this. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Yue took a deep breath and nodded. Yes, Aunt Manami was right, she could do this. She was a princess of the Water Tribe, and a princess’s duty was to her people. She would serve them by maintaining their freedom and sovereignty, and the only way to do that was by a marriage.

Just then, a servant appeared in the doorway. “Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, accompanied by Lieutenant Yaling of the Fire Nation,” he announced.

“Very good. Send them in.”

Yue and Aunt Manami stood to receive their guests, who held their left hands vertically over their right fists as they bowed. The prince wore a miniature version of his mother’s armor, and his dark hair was pulled into a plume on top of his head. His chaperone wore the standard Fire Navy armor, complete with spiked helmet and terrifying skull faceplate.

Yue donned a bright smile and a cheerful voice, determined that her guests would never know how anxious she really was. “Welcome honored guests. Please, be seated.” She gestured towards the cushions surrounding the game table.

“Thank you, Princess,” Prince Zuko said in a soft voice. He turned to his companion. “Lieutenant, you may wait outside.”

The lieutenant bowed to the prince, then to Yue and Aunt Manami, before backing towards the door. When she reached it, she turned crisply on her heel and marched out.

“Shouldn’t she stay with us?” Yue asked as they sat down.

The prince scowled slightly. “I don’t need her babysitting me,” he grumbled. “It’s okay, my mother won’t mind as long as she stays right outside the door,” he assured her with an earnest look.

“Well, if you’re sure…” Yue glanced toward Aunt Manami, who had taken a seat in the corner with some intricate beadwork project. “Don’t mind me,” Manami smiled at them. “I’m just here to chaperone, I won’t be in the way.”

Yue and the prince sat in awkward silence for several minutes. How was she supposed to entertain the prince of the Fire Nation? What did children do in the Fire Nation, anyway? Did they even play games, or were they all too busy training to become soldiers so that they could conquer the world? No, that was unkind and unfair. She didn’t know Prince Zuko, or any other Fire Nation person. That bad attitude wouldn’t help her get to know him either, or make her situation any better.

Yue sighed and tapped her fingers on the table. The prince sat across from her silently. He certainly wasn’t very sociable, was he? Obviously, Yue would have to take the reins. “Do you like pai sho?” she asked hopefully.

The prince’s pale cheeks flushed red. “No, not really.”

“Oh,” she said, disappointed. She’d just have to find some other game for them to play then.

“I mean, I’ve never really played before,” he said quickly. “My uncle plays, and my cousin does, too. Well, he did before he died.” His face fell, and he dropped his gaze to the hands clasped in his lap.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Prince Zuko,” she said. He looked into her eyes, and she was struck by just how beautiful his eyes were. Everyone she’d ever met before had eyes in varying shades of blue or gray, but the prince’s eyes were a vivid shade of gold. They reminded her of fire itself, in a way; like the warmth and comfort of a fire in the hearth that’s waiting for you when you come in from the cold. It might not be so bad, looking into those eyes for the rest of her life. Hahn’s eyes were arrogant and cold, like chips of ice. Yue felt a bit better now.

“My dad and my sister say pai sho is a waste of time.”

“It is not!” Yue exclaimed, before remembering that Mama wanted her to act like a proper princess, and princesses most certainly didn’t raise their voices. “Pai sho is a strategy game,” she said in a calmer tone. “It sharpens your wits, and teaches patience. Papa says playing pai sho is good practice for every leader. Besides, it’s fun. I could teach you to play, if you want.”

“I don’t know, I’m a slow learner,” he said, looking away from her. “You probably don’t want to teach me.”

Her mind made up, Yue placed the board on the table and got out the tiles. “We’ll start with a very basic game,” she told him. “You can ask me as many questions as you want, okay? Nobody is good at pai sho the first time they play, or even the tenth. But each game teaches you something, and it’s always fun, if you play with the right person.”

Yue explained the names of all of the pieces and how they functioned in the game, then she laid out her tiles. “Normally, the guest has the first move, but since this is your first time I’ll go first. That way you can have an idea of what to do.”

Prince Zuko turned out to be a decent player, even if she had to occasionally remind him of the rules. He also seemed to be a little on edge, as if her were afraid she’d make fun of him, especially after he made a mistake.

Yue won every game, even as she tried to go easy on him. Playing with Prince Zuko was so much different than playing with Hahn. With Hahn, it was fun to win and to do it quickly so that she could rub it in his smug face. Winning pai sho was a way that Yue could show him that she was smarter than he was. Hahn tried not to show it, but she could tell that he hated losing to a girl. Yue enjoyed teaching Zuko, though, and she was happy to see him grasp the concepts and improve his skills.

After they’d been playing for nearly two hours, the prince nearly won a game. “That’s great! You’re doing so much better.”

He gave her a confused look. “I lost. How is that great?”

“Yes, but you could have won that time if you’d just tweaked your early strategy a bit.” She beamed at him. “If you practiced, I’m sure you’d be really good.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled. He pulled a red silk bag off of his belt and thrust it towards her. “This is for you.”

“For me?” she repeated. “You didn’t need to give me anything.” A present was the last thing she’d expected.

“It’s really nothing special.”

Yue tugged open the drawstring. Inside the bag was a beautiful blue and white shell. “Oh, Prince Zuko; it’s lovely. Thank you very much.” She ran her finger along the ridges.

“I collected a bunch of them on the beach during our trip up here,” Prince Zuko said. “I gave one to my mother and saved a few for Uncle Iroh, and I’m going to place one on Lu Ten’s altar when I get home.”

“You didn’t have to give one of your shells to me,” Yue said.

“Don’t you like it? You don’t have to keep it if you think it’s dumb. I just thought girls liked pretty things like that. Girls that aren’t like Azula, anyway,” he added quietly.

“Oh, no! I love it!” Yue assured him. “It’s just…wouldn’t you rather give it to someone in your family? Like the others?”

“Well, if we’re going to get married when we grow up, won’t that make you my family, too?”

“That’s so sweet.” Before she could think better of it, Yue leaned over and pecked him briefly on the cheek. Aunt Manami cleared her throat very loudly from her corner, and Prince Zuko’s entire face turned as red as the silk bag. Yue could feel her own cheeks get hot, too. What was she thinking, kissing a boy she barely knew like that? Desperate to change the subject, Yue asked, “Who’s Azula?”

The prince was flustered and confused. “Huh?”

“Who’s Azula?” she repeated. “The girl that you said doesn’t like pretty things.”

“Oh, uh, she’s my younger sister.”

“You’re so lucky,” Yue said. “I’ve always wanted a little sister. How old is she? Do you have any other siblings?”

“No, just Azula. She’ll be nine this summer. And I’m glad she’s my only sister, I don’t want any more,” he said emphatically.

Yue wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.

“So, you don’t have any sisters, then?” Yue shook her head. “Any brothers?”

“No, no brother either.”

“Well, what about cousins?” Prince Zuko asked.

“None on Papa’s side. Mama’s sister Senna has three boys, but I can’t play with them, they’re just little kids.” _And Mama says they’re too rough and tumble, anyway,_ she thought. She’d heard it all her life: _Yue is too delicate to play like other children. Quiet activities are far more appropriate for her._

“Lu Ten was a lot older than me and Azula, but he still played with us when he had time, especially at the beach.”

Yue didn’t feel like explaining anything to him, so she just smiled and said, “He sounds like he was a good cousin.”

Lieutenant Yaling stepped in. She bowed to Yue and the prince. “Prince Zuko, your mother Princess Ursa will be finished with her meetings soon, and she’ll want to see you. It’s time we headed back.”

“Okay.” The prince stood up from the table and bowed to Yue. “Thank you for teaching me, Princess Yue.”

Yue smiled at him. “You are most welcome, Prince Zuko. I hope we may play again someday soon. I look forward to your progress.”

He turned and bowed toward Aunt Manami. “It was nice to meet you, ma’am.” Then he and the lieutenant left.

Yue put away the pai sho board while Aunt Manami tucked her beading safely into her work basket. “Well,” Aunt Manami said, “he seems like a nice enough boy, if a little rough around the edges. But what else do you expect from the Fire Nation?”

Yue closed the drawstring of the red silk bag and put it in the sleeve of her parka. She’d have to be careful with the seashell until it was safe in her bedroom. She was so touched that he’d thought to give it to her. “Yes,” she agreed, “I was pleasantly surprised.” She smiled to herself. Privately, she thought he was much better than any of the boys that her parents would have chosen for her, though she would never say so out loud.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko sneaks off, gets himself lost, runs into Princess Yue, and gets into an argument with Hahn.

The next morning, Zuko was bound and determined to escape whatever babysitter his mother stuck him with. He only had two more days at the North Pole, and he hadn’t seen anything except the palace and the guest huts. Mom had been very busy, but she made sure a Fire Nation soldier was with him whenever he was out of her sight. Yaling was the one she chose most often.

He only wanted to explore a little, and maybe play in the snow. It never snowed in the Fire Nation, and yes, he’d come back to the North Pole to get married but he’d be an adult then, so this was his only chance. He’d attempted to escape from under Yaling’s watchful eye three times. Each time she’d caught him by the collar and said, “Nice try, Prince Zuko.”

Pleading hadn’t worked either. No matter how many times he’d asked, or whatever way he phrased it, the answer was always no. “But I won’t get into any trouble,” he’d wheedled.

“Prince Zuko, your mother doesn’t want you wandering around a strange city, and she’s absolutely right. I know she’s secured an alliance, but you just never know what these people might really be thinking.”

Azula would be able to convince them to do what she wanted. Azula was _always_ convincing people to do what she wanted. It wasn’t fair! He never had any luck.

Until this morning. He had a different babysitter today. Yaling was needed elsewhere, and a young man with a wispy mustache was assigned to the prince instead.

Zuko told Wispy Mustache that he was going to meditate and didn’t want to be disturbed. Normally he was a terrible liar, and Yaling never would have bought it, but Wispy Mustache just bowed and said he’d wait outside the door.

Zuko sat very quietly for what seemed like forever. Then, when he was sure his guard wasn’t going to come check on him, he carefully climbed out of the back window. Crouching low to avoid being seen, he crept through the cluster of igloos before making his way down the hill to explore the city below.

It started out well enough. The city was beautiful, so pure and clean, and it sparkled in the morning sun like a diamond. The snow made a pleasant crunching sound under his boots, and it felt good just to be free.

But after a while, Prince Zuko realized that he didn’t know where he was. All of the buildings and canals and pathways looked exactly the same. There were no trees, no landmarks, and no signs. How did anybody find anything around here? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

He was just about to turn around and hope he could find his way back to the guest igloo when he saw a group of boys about Azula’s age. There was almost a dozen of them, dressed in dark blue parkas, playing in a large open space on the opposite side of the canal. A few of the boys were making snowballs, but most of them were busy building a fort. One was trying to use waterbending to build far over his head.

Excited now, Zuko waved at the boys. “Hey, can I play too?” he shouted across the water.

Startled at the sound of Zuko’s voice the waterbender lost control and dropped a pile of snow onto his own head. Several boys turned around to look at him, but they quickly looked away again, as if they were afraid to look directly at him.

Maybe his shout had scared them. “Can I play?” he said again, quieter this time. He took a couple of steps forward and smiled politely at the boys. “It looks like fun. My name’s Zuko. What’s yours?” he asked, finally remembering his manners.

The smaller boys scattered off in different directions. The biggest one glared at him and said, “We’re not playing with a fire-breather! Why don’t you just go back where you came from?”

Shocked at their reaction, Zuko took a step backward.

The waterbender pushed the snow off of himself and smacked the bigger boy in the back of the head with a water whip. “Shut up!” he hissed. “That’s the Fire Nation prince!”

“Ow!” The boy rubbed his head where the whip had struck him. “I know! It’s obvious by the stupid way he’s dressed. And so, what? I don’t care if he is a prince. They can’t just come here and do whatever they want.”

“So, you can’t talk to a prince like that!” the waterbender argued. “Especially not a Fire Nation one. You know what they’re like. Besides, my grandpa said that the chief made a deal with them. You’ll get us all into trouble.”

Even after everyone else had left, the two of them kept arguing, their broken fort forgotten. Zuko turned to leave.

Sneaking out had definitely been a bad idea. And now he was cold, too. He’d been so eager to escape that he’d forgotten his cloak. He wasn’t wearing armor, either, just simple pants and tunic. His hands were red and stiff.

Zuko looked at his feet as he walked along the canals. He hadn’t wanted to come to the North Pole; this was all Grandfather’s idea. Why were those kids so rude? He’d only wanted to play with them, was that wrong? He didn’t really have any friends in the Fire Nation, and it looked like he wouldn’t make any in the Water Tribe, either.

He rubbed his face with the back of his hand. The cold air was making him sniffle. He wished he was back with Mom right now, with something hot to drink. He didn’t really like tea that much, but he’d be glad for some now.

“Prince Zuko, watch out!”

Zuko jerked his head up at the shout. Yue was sitting in the front of an ornately carved and painted canoe, waving her arms frantically at him. A waterbender stood in the back, propelling the canoe around the corner. “Are you okay? You almost walked right off the sidewalk into the water.”

Zuko scrambled away from the edge. She was right, he nearly had walked right into the freezing water. Like an idiot. Why did he always end up looking stupid in front of her? _That’s because you are stupid,_ a voice inside him said.

Yue’s canoe bumped against the ice in front of him. “Prince Zuko? Are you sure you’re all right?” She was looking at him expectantly, with wide blue eyes. She looked concerned about him. Somehow, that made him even more uncomfortable.

He crossed his arms and said, “I’m cold.” Hopefully she would believe that was why his face was red, and she wouldn’t have to know how embarrassed he was.

“Oh, of course!” she exclaimed. “Look at how you’re dressed. You don’t even have your cloak. How silly of me not to notice!”

_Yes, that’s me, the kid who’s too stupid to dress properly before going out in a city made entirely out of ice._ Zuko was beyond embarrassed now. Now he was mortified. “I was just heading back to the igloo,” he said to his feet and turned to go.

“Wait!”

He stopped and turned to see what she wanted.

“We could give you a ride…if you want.”

“You don’t have to, Princess,” he mumbled.

“Oh, don’t be difficult,” she said. “You said you were cold, and this is much faster than walking. And besides, you’re going the wrong way.” She stood up tugged him forward by the hand. He could either get in her canoe, or he could fall on his face, so he chose to get in the canoe.

He sat across from her, rubbing his arms and wishing he’d thought a little more before sneaking out of his window. Yue looked at him thoughtfully. “You know, you really should have a parka. If you come with me to the palace, I could probably find you one.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Zuko pulled on the binder that held his phoenix plume in place, letting his black hair fall loose around his shoulders. He hoped it would make his ears warmer.

“No, I insist. You gave me such a lovely gift yesterday, and I’d like to give you something, too.”

“Well, if you’re sure…”

She nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Okay, then,” he said. The ride was peaceful enough, but Zuko was so frozen that he was sure his lips were turning blue.

He conjured a tiny flame in his hand, and then let it grow until it was crackling merrily and he needed both hands to cradle it. Its soothing warmth washed over his face and made his palms tingle. Steady breaths, in and out, in and out. He felt the energy of the sun shining down on him, and that energy fueled his fire. The flame was completely under his control. Zuko’s breathing kept it alive, and his will kept it contained to his hands.

Yue was looking at him with huge eyes. Had he done something wrong? The fire sputtered and died out. Zuko started to ask her why she was upset, but she put a finger to her lips and pointed to the waterbender behind Zuko.

He peeked over his shoulder. The man was still bending the water, a placid look on his face.

The instant the canoe reached the palace, Yue grabbed Zuko’s hand and leapt onto the ice. “Come on, we’re here,” she said. She dashed up the front steps, dragging him behind her. It took all of his concentration not to trip as she pulled him through the palace doorway, up multiple staircases, and down a long hallway and into what he assumed was her bedroom. She pushed him inside before firmly securing the hide that covered the door. When she was sure that it was fastened, she rounded on him. “You’re a firebender!” she hissed.

Zuko stumbled backward and tried to catch his breath. “Yes,” he said very slowly. What was her problem?

“Nobody said anything about you being a firebender!”

“Of course, I’m a firebender!” he shot back at her, before lowering his voice. “Everybody in my whole family is a firebender, it’s a whole dynasty of firebenders. Why wouldn’t I be a firebender?” Did he really have such a bad reputation, and had it really spread as far as the North Pole?

“Oh, Mama isn’t going to be happy about this at all,” Yue muttered to herself, pacing.

“Well, what did she expect? If you marry into the _Fire Nation_ royal family, you’re going to be marrying a _firebender_ ,” he said in an annoyed voice.

“You’re not helping,” she glared at him.

Not helping? He wasn’t the one freaking out over nothing. He took a deep breath, trying not to shout at her. “I don’t see what the problem is,” he grumbled. “I’m not all worked up that you’re a waterbender.”

Yue stopped abruptly. “Waterbender? What are you talking about? I’m not a waterbender.”

“You’re not?” That was surprising.

Yue shook her head and sat down on one of the thick furs covering the floor. Zuko sat down next to her. “Was your dad mad about it?” He knew his own father would have been.

“No, why would he be mad? He’s not a bender, either. The only waterbenders in my family are my grandma and one of my aunts. Oh, and Aunt Manami married a waterbender last year.”

Zuko thought about that for a second. “But doesn’t the chief need to be a waterbender?”

“No,” she said, looking away. She traced a random pattern on the pelt with her finger. “Anyway, even if I was a waterbender, it wouldn’t matter. Girls can’t be chief.”

“Why can’t a girl be the chief? That’s dumb.”

Yue smiled at him then. She was pretty when she smiled. Zuko looked down so that his hair would cover his face.

“Well, I promised you a parka.” Yue got up and started rifling through her wardrobe. “I would give you one of Papa’s, but it would be much too big for you, so you’ll just have to have one of mine. I’m sure I have one in here somewhere that should work for you.” She reached even further, moving things out of the way. Finally, she pulled something out. “I think this one will do quite nicely.”

It was a dark blue parka trimmed at the hood, cuffs, and hem with thick, fluffy white fur. The shoulders were white as well, though not fluffy, and decorated with beadwork depicting the phases of the moon. Zuko ran his fingers across the front of it. The fur was just as soft as it looked. It was _beautiful_.

“Thank you,” he murmured. This was much better than a simple seashell.

“You’re very welcome, Prince Zuko. What were you doing outside without your cloak, anyway?”

He shrugged. “I was just looking around.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes. I was outside, looking around, by myself,” he insisted.

“In just a tunic and pants?” Princess Yue crossed her arms and raised a skeptical white eyebrow. “And your mother was just fine with that?”

His resolve crumbled under her gaze. “Okay, so I snuck out! I snuck out and I forgot my cloak, and maybe I got lost, and I probably would have gotten frostbite if you hadn’t come along!” he blurted out. “I just wanted to see the city, and maybe play in the snow,” he added sheepishly. He wished he hadn’t said all of that. Would he ever learn to think before he spoke?

“In that case,” Yue said, “you’ll need gloves, too. Oh, and you should probably fix your hair.”

Zuko looked at her, confused.

“I thought you said you wanted to go out. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“No, I still want to go.”

“Then you’ll need gloves so that your fingers don’t freeze,” she said sensibly. “And your hair’s a mess. Can I fix it for you?”

“Uh, sure.” He couldn’t believe it. He was finally getting to go outside and actually do something!

Yue clapped her hands in excitement and fetched an ivory comb. “You sit here,” she said, pointing to the floor in front of her. She quickly smoothed out his windblown hair and pulled half of it into a braid that she fastened with a leather tie. The rest of it she left hanging loose down his back. “There,” she smiled at her handiwork, “now you look all presentable.”

Zuko found himself smiling back at her. “Thanks.” He pulled on the parka and accepted the gloves she offered. “So, where are we going?”

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting on a sled perched at the top of a large hill that Zuko thought must have been created with waterbending. Yue was sat at the front of the sled and Zuko sat behind her, holding onto her waist.

“Okay, so what do I do?” he asked.

“You just sort of rock it forward, and we slide down. Make sure your feet are tucked in.”

“Got it. We’ll go on three, okay?”

Princess Yue nodded.

“One…two…” Zuko rocked the sled toward the edge of the hill, “…three!” It tilted down sharply, and they both leaned forward with it. The sled flew down the hillside; the air rushed past them and blew off both of their hoods. Princess Yue’s long white braids hit him in the face. She was yelling, and maybe he was too, he wasn’t really sure. The whole world was a blur.

They reached the bottom of the hill in seconds, but the sled was still racing across the ground with no signs of slowing down. Zuko reached around Yue and grabbed the sled rope, tugging it hard to the right. The sled jerked and turned so suddenly that it fell over and they both toppled out.

Zuko untangled himself from the princess and rolled over onto his back. “That was amazing!” he yelled into the sky.

Yue sat up and brushed the snow off of her clothes. “It was fun, wasn’t it?” she laughed.

Zuko pushed himself up and looked at her. “Haven’t you ever been sledding before?”

“No, my mother doesn’t like it.”

“Oh.” Zuko frowned. “So…does that mean you don’t want to go again?”

“No, we are definitely going again,” Yue said with a grin, and started walking toward the hill.

“Hey, wait for me!” Zuko called after her. “You forget the sled!” It had finally stopped about fifty feet away. He ran to grab it, then followed the princess up the hill, pulling it behind him by the rope.

When they were too tired to climb the hill again, they sat down together at its base. “Are you cold now, Prince Zuko?” Yue asked. “Maybe we should go back inside.”

“Not at all,” he replied. “This is the warmest thing I’ve ever worn.”

Princess Yue covered her mouth with her hands and giggled. “Of course, it is. Everyone knows that clothes should be made of furs. Well, everyone but the Fire Nation, apparently. Or are you all too busy to worry about trivialities like avoiding frostbite?”

Zuko tensed at that. Was Princess Yue making fun of him? Did she really think he was dumb after all? She’d seemed like she liked him, but he should have known that wasn’t true. Maybe he should just go back to the palace. Surely, he could find his way to the guest huts from there.

Then he looked into her eyes, and they were so gentle and kind, without a hint of malice. She wasn’t mocking him; she was playfully teasing. He relaxed and let out a deep breath.

“No, that’s not it,” Zuko explained. “It’s never cold in the Fire Nation; it’s always warm. So, I guess I never needed to think about it. And anyway, if you wore all these furs there you’d pass out or get heat exhaustion or something like that.”

“It’s never cold? Ever?” she asked, disbelieving.

“Never ever,” he confirmed. “Not even in the middle of winter.”

“So, there’s no snow in the Fire Nation? What’s it like, then?”

He thought for a second. “I mean, there might be snow, way up high in the tallest mountains, but nobody lives up there. But we have a lot of other stuff, like jungles, and beaches, and meadows. Oh, and volcanoes, too. The whole capital city is inside the crater of a volcano.”

Princess Yue was looking at him with interest. “Wow. Have you been to all of these places?”

“No, but we had to learn all about them. My family does have a beach house on Ember Island, though. It’s beautiful there.” Zuko’s stomach rumbled, reminding him how hungry he was. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess we were having so much fun that I forgot all about lunchtime.”

Yue pulled something out of a little pocket in her sleeve. “Here,” she said, holding out some sort of dried up old sticks. “Have some of this, you’ll like it.”

Zuko wasn’t so sure about that. He gingerly grasped a stick between his thumb and forefinger. “What is it?”

“It’s blubbered seal jerky.”

“Is that food?” He sniffed at the jerky hesitantly.

“Yes, of course it’s food,” she laughed. “It’s very tasty food.” She nibbled on a stick of her own. “See?”

Well, the jerky stick did smell nice and meaty. He took a tiny bite. It _was_ nice and meaty, and a little bit briny and smoky, too. “You’re right,” he said between bites, “this is tasty.”

“I told you so,” she replied, handing him another piece.

They sat in silence while they ate. Not the awkward kind of silence that you can’t wait to find an excuse to get away from, but the comfortable, pleasant kind of silence.

When he finished his jerky, Zuko wiped his gloved hands off on his pants and began gathering snow into a pile.

“Prince Zuko, what are you doing?”

“Trying to make a snowman,” he said as he tried to make his pile taller. He attempted to pat it into the proper shape, but the snow kept crumbling. He looked over at Princess Yue, who was trying hard not to smile. “What am I doing wrong?”

She knelt down next to him in the snow. “Start with a snowball, like this,” she instructed. She showed him how to pack it into a tight ball. “That’s right. Then you roll it around in the snow, and it gets bigger and bigger. That’s your base. Then you stack a smaller ball on top of the first one for the middle, and an even smaller one on top for the head. You can smooth it out and shape it after it’s all stacked.”

Zuko was trying to put the head on his snowman when an older boy with a square jaw and strategically fluffed hair came swaggering up to the princess. He completely ignored Zuko.

“I didn’t expect to see you out here, Princess Yue,” he said. He looked her up and down critically before saying, “You’re looking particularly lovely today.”

“Thank you, Hahn.” Her tone was civil, but cool and dismissive.

Zuko thought that would be the end of it, but the boy said, “So, is it true?”

“Is what true, Hahn?”

“What people are saying. Is your father really marrying you off to a Fire Nation savage?”

Zuko flinched and dropped the snowman’s head. He turned to more fully face Yue and Hahn.

“My father is negotiating a peace treaty with the Fire Nation,” Yue corrected him. “The Fire Lord’s grandson and I are to be married to seal our nations’ alliance.”

“So, it is true. I didn’t want to believe something like that could happen to a nice girl like you, Yue,” he said in a smarmy voice. “You know, my father was really disappointed when he heard the news. He was so certain that he and the chief were ready to make an official agreement.” Hahn tossed his hair artfully as he spoke.

“Yes, well, things don’t always work out the way we think they will,” Yue said, annoyed.

“I don’t blame you for being upset. I _am_ quite a catch, you know.”

Yue didn’t even respond to that. She just stared ahead with a polite, if a bit uninterested, look on her face.

“I’m a highly skilled warrior from one of the best families,” he continued, oblivious. “Not to mention my stunning good looks.” Hahn tossed his hair again, for emphasis.

What was this guy’s problem? It was obvious to Zuko that the princess didn’t want to talk to him, but here he was, running his mouth and preening like a peacock-swan. Did he just like to hear himself talk?

“Well, at least now I can court some of the dozens of other girls who would be thrilled at a chance to become my betrothed,” he smirked. “I’m sure my father won’t be too horribly offended.”

“Considering my father has to think of the welfare of the entire tribe, I should certainly hope that your father wouldn’t hold onto such a petty grudge,” Yue said quietly. “And you are most certainly welcome to any girls who will have you.”

Hahn narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Are you insulting me? After you and your father—”

“Hey!” Zuko couldn’t listen to him anymore. “Why don’t you just leave her alone? It’s not her fault if her dad changed his mind. Besides, you should speak more respectfully to your princess.” He couldn’t imagine anybody speaking to Mom or Azula that way.

Hahn sneered at Zuko. “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry,” Yue said. “How rude of me. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, allow me to introduce Hahn of the Northern Water Tribe.”

Hahn bristled at Zuko being introduced first. “Prince?” He took a long look at Zuko’s clothes. “I thought you were a _girl_ in that parka.”

Zuko looked down at the parka Princess Yue had given him. It was cut like hers, with a rounded hem that fell past his knees, and a thick fur trim. Hahn’s had a square hemline that ended exactly at the knee, and the trim was narrower. The differences between the two garments were so small that he’d just assumed they were a matter of personal preference. And anyway, Zuko didn’t see what the big deal was in wearing Yue’s parka. He and his sister happened to have several outfits that were literally identical except for size, and so did his parents.

“But I don’t know what I expected from a Fire Nation savage, anyway,” Hahn said to Yue. “I mean, they’re all unnatural; look at how aggressive their women are. And have you seen their princess? Parading around in all of that fancy black and gold armor like a man?” He laughed. “I bet his father wears a dress and weaves baskets like a woman. That’s probably why he sent his wife to do a man’s job. No wonder the kid’s confused. With parents like that…”

Princess Yue gasped and touched Zuko’s arm. “Prince Zuko, I’m so sorry for—”

Zuko pulled his arm away from her and stomped towards Hahn. He got right up in his smug, stupid face. “Why don’t you just shut up,” he snarled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Hahn scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to _offend_ you, Princess Suko.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m glad Yue’s not marrying you; she’s too good for you!” he raged. “And I bet you’re lying about all those other girls. Who would want to be engaged to a sexist pig like you?”

Hahn’s smug expression hardened, and he took a step forward. “How dare you talk to me like that? You little brat! You think you can just charge in here and understand the complexities of _our_ political ways? The Fire Nation is even more ignorant than I thought.”

“Why are you such a jerk?” Zuko shoved Hahn with both hands. Hahn shoved him back, knocking him on his backside. Zuko sprang back to his feet.

“Don’t fight, please,” Yue begged. “Let’s just all go home and calm down.”

Zuko ignored her. Somebody had to teach this guy a lesson. Yeah, he was a lot bigger than Zuko, and therefore Zuko was probably going to get his butt kicked, but nobody else was going to do it.

He launched himself at Hahn so hard that the other boy fell onto his back. But Hahn grabbed Zuko by the ankle and pulled him down, too. Hahn dragged Zuko towards him, and punched him repeatedly in the arm. Zuko yanked sharply on Hahn’s hair. Then they were both rolling around in the snow, hitting and kicking each other wherever they could reach, with Yue in the background desperately trying to break up the fight. “Stop! Both of you, stop fighting! Please!” she cried.

Hahn got in almost twice as many blows as Zuko did, but he didn’t care. They kept pummeling each other until a bunch of wet snow landed on their heads. They’d toppled Zuko’s unfinished snowman. Zuko yelped at the sudden cold on the back of his neck and instinctively tried to scramble away, but Hahn grabbed him by the collar. He pushed Zuko face down into the snow pile. Zuko flailed and twisted, trying to escape, but Hahn held him tight.

Snow filled his mouth and nose, and it was hard to breathe. He managed to place one of his palms on the snow pile, and concentrated. A burst of fire melted the snowman quickly. Zuko coughed and sputtered, and wiped the water off of his face with his sleeve. The glove he’d borrowed from Princess Yue was completely singed through.

Hahn dropped him in shock. “A firebender?” he exclaimed.

Yue released her hold on Hahn’s sleeve and hurried over to Zuko. “Are you okay? Is anything broken? Oh, my goodness, your poor face!” she gasped. “Oh, why did you have to start a fight? You should have just ignored him and gone back inside.”

Zuko scooted away from her. “I’m fine,” he mumbled. His face throbbed. He carefully touched his fingers to his lip. It was swollen and bloody.

“What is going on here?” an angry voice demanded. Yue’s mother was marching towards them, followed by her Aunt Manami.

Yue startled at the question and hurriedly tried to smooth down the hair that had escaped the twin braids it had been styled in before spinning around to face her mother. Zuko pulled his hood up, hoping not to be recognized.

“Mama! What are you doing here?” Yue asked in a would-be lighthearted voice.

“You were supposed to be at your afternoon lessons nearly an hour ago,” Yue’s mother replied. Her sharp blue eyes took in Yue’s disheveled hair and reddened cheeks before landing on Zuko and Hahn. She sighed. “Yue, you _know_ you aren’t supposed to participate in rough play, especially with boys, it’s not ladyli—you!”

Zuko winced as Yue’s angry mother realized who he was.

“What is the meaning of this? What have you done to my daughter?” she demanded, eyes flashing with fury.

Zuko hunched his shoulders and tried to burrow further into his parka. “Nothing. We were just playing,” he said in a small voice.

“Mama, I’m _fine_ , I promise. Prince Zuko didn’t do anything wrong. It was _my_ idea to come—”

“You’re not fine! Your face is all red; you’ve been outside far too long and exerted yourself too much,” her mother wailed. “If you fall ill because of that savage boy—”

“Ummi,” Yue’s aunt said softly as she placed a hand on her shoulder, “I think you may be over-reacting. He’s just a child; they were playing. I’m sure the princess will be just fine after a hot bath and a cup of tea.”

Ummi wrenched away from her sister. “What would you know about children? You’re not even a mother.”

Would playing outside really make Princess Yue sick? It must be dangerous for her if her mother was so upset by it. He hadn’t known. Zuko felt terrible. Yue was right, he shouldn’t have let Hahn’s stupid comments bother him so much. He’d lost his temper and now everything was ruined.

“…and that’s when he attacked me with a huge fireball!” Hahn was telling the adults.

“That’s not true!” Zuko protested.

Ummi glared at him. “Quiet!”

“No, Mama, please listen,” Yue said. “That’s not what happened. Hahn pushed him into the snow, and he melted it, that’s all.”

“Zuko! Oh, thank Agni, you’re safe!” Mom was running towards him, red cloak streaming behind her, with Yaling and a handful of soldiers in skull-faced helmets on her heels.

Zuko ran to her, and she pulled him into a fierce hug, peppering his face with kisses. Zuko was so happy to see her that he submitted to her affections gladly, and wasn’t even a bit embarrassed.

“You had me worried sick, young man!” she scolded. “Lee went to call you for lunch, and you were gone. I’ve had multiple squads out looking for you. I was terrified you’d taken a notion to go swimming and froze to death.” She patted him down front and back. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s a parka. Princess Yue gave it to me because I wanted to play in the snow, but I forgot to bring my cloak.”

“Oh, Zuko,” Mom sighed. “You really must learn to think before you act. What am I to do with you?” Finally, Mom seemed to notice there were other people with them. She bowed formally to Princess Yue. “Thank you, Princess, for taking such good care of my son. It is a great comfort to me that my future daughter-in-law is such a practical and level-headed young lady.”

“Oh, um, you’re welcome Princess Ursa. I am honored by your praise.” Yue’s gaze darted nervously between Zuko’s mother and her own.

That’s when Mom noticed Zuko’s fat lip. She gasped. “Darling, what happened?” She gently tilted his chin to better see the rest of his face. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

He was sore from rolling around on the ground and being punched repeatedly by Hahn, but he wasn’t going to tell Mom that. “No, I’m fine, Mom. We were just playing. I tripped and fell, that’s all.”

Mom looked at all of their unhappy faces, and at Hahn’s rumpled clothes and hair. Zuko could tell that she didn’t believe his story. “Would somebody please tell me what’s going on?” she said coldly.

Manami cleared her throat. “It was just children playing, Princess. The boys must have just gotten carried away. You know how boys can be, I’m sure.” She glanced meaningfully at her sister.

“Yes, please forgive us, Princess. No harm was meant.” Ummi’s gaze was fixed on the frozen ground. “I assure you; it won’t happen again.”

Mom looked intently at Hahn for a long moment. “Is that true, young man?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hahn squirmed slightly under her stare, but his voice was steady.

Mom raised her eyebrows. “You were roughhousing and got carried away?”

Hahn nodded.

“And just how old are you?”

Hahn looked confused. “Pardon?”

“How old are you?” Mom repeated.

“Almost fourteen.”

“I see.” She fixed him with a hard look. “Well, in the future, see to it that you don’t find yourself in a situation where you rough up an eleven-year-old. Do we understand each other?”

Hahn swallowed and stammered, “Y-yes, fire princess, ma’am.”

“Good. I think it’s time you went home now.”

Hahn scurried off. Ummi turned to her sister. “Manami, please escort Princess Yue to the palace. It’s high time she was back indoors.”

“Yes, of course,” Manami nodded. She took Yue by the hand. “Come along now, princess.”

Yue gave Zuko an apologetic look as she passed. He wiggled his fingers in a little wave and watched them as they hurried towards the palace.

Mom dismissed Yaling and her soldiers, leaving the three of them standing on the ice in a tense silence. Ummi started to say something, but Mom cut her off. “Well, we’ll be leaving you now. I’m sure you have a great deal to do to prepare for tomorrow.”

Ummi bobbed her head. “Of course. Thank you for being so understanding, Princess Ursa,” she said with a forced smile.

“Zuko,” Mom prompted, and they both bowed before taking their leave of Yue’s mother. When they were out of earshot, she said, “Do you want to tell me what really happened back there?”

“We really were just playing, Mom, but then that Hahn kid came and started saying nasty things, and I completely lost my temper. So, I shoved him, and we got into a fight, and that’s how my face got hurt.”

“Zuko, you should have just ignored him.” They walked in silence for several minutes. “I’m not going to punish you for fighting, not this time, but don’t let it happen again. Your grandfather will not be happy if Chief Arnook revokes his agreement to this marriage treaty.”

“It won’t happen again, Mom, I promise.” Zuko could see the group of igloos ahead. “I’m not in trouble? Really?” He couldn’t believe his luck; he thought he’d be punished for sure.

Inside their igloo, there was a nice lunch of hot soup, pickled fish, and ginseng tea waiting. “Oh, you’re still in trouble, just not for fighting,” Mom said. “You sneaked out in a strange city and worried me half to death. I just know I’ve got gray hairs now.” They sat down to eat. “The first thing you’re going to do is apologize to Lee. He’s been put on latrine duty for a month because of you.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After she's caught skipping lessons to go sledding with Prince Zuko, Yue receives a check-up from Yugoda, and has a heart to heart with Papa. Mama argues with her sister and Papa. The alliance between the two nations and Yue's betrothal to Prince Zuko is officially announced.

After Yue had been caught outside with Prince Zuko, Mama declared that she needed to rest. So she told Yue’s tutor that afternoon lessons were cancelled, ordered her a steaming hot bath and watched her drink an equally steaming hot cup of tea, and finally bundled her up in thick furs and tucked her snugly in bed.

Mama straightened the blankets and felt Yue’s forehead with the back of her hand. “No fever, thank goodness, but I’d better call Yugoda anyway. Just in case.” She clucked her tongue worriedly.

“Mama, I’m not sick,” Yue protested.

But Mama wasn’t listening. “I think I’ll ask the cook to prepare a nice bone broth for your supper; I don’t want you having anything too heavy.” She frowned. “Maybe you should stay in bed tomorrow, too.”

Yue bolted upright. “Mama, I can’t stay in bed tomorrow! Tomorrow’s the betrothal announcement.”

Mama gently pushed her back down onto the pillows and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. “I’m well aware of what tomorrow is,” she huffed. “But surely even those people can understand that we mustn’t risk your health, sweetheart.”

“But I’m not—”

“That is enough arguing,” Mama said sternly. “I’m going to fetch Yugoda. Stay in bed, and stay covered.”

Yue knew from long experience that nothing she said would change Mama’s mind once she was convinced that Yue might be ill, so she quieted. Hopefully Yugoda would pronounce her healthy, and then Mama wouldn’t start an argument with Papa about tomorrow.

Aunt Manami poked her head into the doorway. “How are you feeling, Yue?”

“I’m fine, Aunt Manami.”

“That’s good,” she smiled. Her expression turned serious as she turned to her sister. “May I talk to you?”

Mama furrowed her brow. “Can’t it wait? I was just going to fetch Yugoda.”

“Send a servant for that,” Aunt Manami said. “Please, Ummi, this is important.”

Mama considered a moment, then she threw up her hands in frustration. “Oh, all right.” She called for a servant girl and bid her to fetch Healer Yugoda, and do it quickly. “We’ll talk, but outside. I want Yue to rest.” She turned to Yue. “I’ll be back in just a minute, sweetie.”

Mama ushered Manami outside and closed the door flap. Yue waited quietly in bed for half a minute, then she pushed back the covers and crept toward the doorway. She knelt on the floor as close as she could without disturbing the hide.

“Well, what is it that’s so urgent it couldn’t wait?” Mama demanded in an exasperated voice.

Manami spoke with a gentle, deliberate tone, as if Mama were a nervous animal that she was trying to calm. “Ummi, you’re my sister, and I love you, so please don’t be mad at what I’m about to say. I know that you’re upset and angry about Yue’s engagement, and we all understand that. Nobody wanted this to happen. But you are letting your anger and fear get in the way of your better judgement.”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the way you are destroying your marriage and upsetting your daughter in the process. I’m talking about—”

Mama cut off whatever it was Manami was about to say. “You don’t know anything about my marriage.”

“I know enough,” Manami said. “Ummi, I know you don’t want to hear this, but the prince is a nice kid.”

Mama scoffed at that.

“He is,” Manami insisted. “And what’s more, Yue likes him.”

Yue stifled a gasp, and felt her stomach clench with dread. Was Aunt Manami going to tell Mama what she’d done? Mama would be furious if she found out. She listened as hard as she could.

“That’s ridiculous,” Mama said. “She doesn’t even know this boy.”

“It’s not ridiculous. You weren’t in that game room, Ummi. I was, and I’m telling you, she likes him. They got along very well. This marriage could work out just fine for your daughter, but it won’t if you can’t even _pretend_ to be civil to the foreigners.”

Yue let out a shaky breath in relief. Aunt Manami hadn’t mentioned the kiss. Mama wasn’t going to find out how improperly she’d behaved that day.

“Are you quite through telling me how to parent my own child?” Mama said sharply.

“Ummi, that’s not—”

“I hope you can remember to follow your own advice if your husband should ever decide to send your only child to live half a world away at the mercy of savages, without even bothering to consult you!”

“You’re being completely unfair, Ummi,” Manami responded. She sounded like she might cry. “If you want to hold onto your anger and bitterness, then fine. I won’t try to stop you. I just hope you don’t push everybody away in the process.” The soft soles of her boots whispered across the ice floor as she hurried away.

Yue quickly scrambled away from the door before standing up and rushing to her bed. She dove under the covers and shut her eyes tight, refusing to let the tears fall.

Mama and Papa fighting over her was bad enough, she hated that Mama and Aunt Manami were arguing too. Was the fracturing of her family all her fault, somehow? Was this some sort of punishment by the spirits for disloyalty to her tribe? Aunt Manami was right, Yue _did_ like Zuko. And his mother and her lady soldiers intrigued her, even though everybody said that Fire Nation women were unnatural. A small part of her was jealous and wished that Water Tribe women could be a little more unnatural. She shouldn’t be thinking these kinds of things about the enemy.

_No, not the enemy,_ she thought, _not anymore._ Papa had signed a treaty with the Fire Nation, and it was Yue’s duty as princess to seal that treaty by marrying Prince Zuko. _For the Water Tribe, for all the people of Utuqaq._

Yue would not feel ashamed for seeing good qualities in her husband’s people. Some day they would be her people too, in a way.

Even so, she would always be a princess of the Water Tribe, no matter where she lived or who her husband was. She would always feel a deep sense of pride in and love for them. They were a close-knit and loving community; every member was unselfish and always ready and willing to pitch in and lend a hand to whoever needed it. They were deeply connected to the land and seas, and all of the creatures who lived there. Water Tribe men were the finest hunters and bravest warriors in the world, and Water Tribe women were the most skilled seamstresses, weavers, and healers.

Why, just this morning Yue had dressed the Fire Nation prince in Water Tribe clothing and taught him to love snow and blubbered seal jerky. She would teach him and his entire Nation the value of the Water Tribe and their ways, and her children would be proud members of the Northern Water Tribe; she would make sure of it.

And eventually Mama would see that she was wrong, and that Yue was going to be just fine. Her family was going to make it through this, _together,_ not torn apart. Everything would be okay. _It just had to be._

“Hello, little princess. How are you feeling today?” Yugoda’s voice was always so kind and warm. Yue had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t even noticed the healer come in.

“Hello, Yugoda. I’m fine. You didn’t have to come.”

Yugoda just smiled and perched on the edge of Yue’s bed. “Hmmmm,” she said with a knowing smirk as she eyed Yue’s unkempt hair and haphazard blankets. “You look like a little girl who was out of bed and then jumped in rather quickly,” she teased.

Yue felt her cheeks heat at being caught.

“Don’t worry, Princess. Your mother’s down in the kitchen putting in her supper order, and I won’t tell her. Your secret’s safe with me. I was a little girl once myself, you know.” Yugoda winked at her.

“Thank you, Yugoda,” Yue said, patting her hair and straightening her blankets.

Yugoda chuckled. “You’re welcome, dearie. Now, let’s give you a quick check-up, shall we?” She opened her clay jar of water, and drew out a small amount with waterbending.

“You really don’t need to. I’m fine, I was just playing outside for a little while.”

The water coated Yugoda’s weathered brown hand like a glove. “It was more than a little while, and you gave your poor mother quite a scare, child,” she chided. “This will only take a little while, and it will put her mind at ease. Now lie back.” She moved her water-covered hand over Yue’s body.

“Why should running and sledding like other children scare my mother so badly?” she whined. “It’s not fair! I want to do things like everybody else.”

Yugoda was holding both hands over Yue’s stomach now. She sighed. “Princess, other children didn’t need to be placed in the sacred waters and blessed by the moon spirit in order to survive more than a day. Your mother treasures you so much, and so does your father the chief, that she has always been overly cautious with you. Perhaps as you’ve gotten older and stronger, I should have encouraged her to allow more physical activity.” Yugoda sounded old and weary, nothing like her usual self. She sent the water back into the jar. “I’ll talk with your mother, but it will likely take a fair bit of time to convince her. In the meantime, I want you to listen to her. There’s no reason to cause her unnecessary stress.”

“I’ll listen perfectly, Yugoda, I promise,” Yue said, not daring to believe her good fortune. Oh, how wonderful it would be if Mama could be convinced to allow her even a little more outdoor play.

“Good girl.” Yugoda smiled and patted Yue’s cheek. Her hand was cool and soft.

Mama came bustling through the door. “Oh, how is she, Yugoda? How long do you think she needs to stay in bed? Has she developed a fever?”

“She’s just fine, Ummi,” Yugoda replied in a calm voice.

“Oh, thank the spirits that wretched boy didn’t cause her any lasting harm!”

“Well, I’m sure no harm was meant. You know how boys can be, dear,” Yugoda tutted as she replaced the lid on her water jar.

Mama’s eyes flashed at that, and for a moment Yue thought there would be another argument. Mama must not have wanted to offend the healer, though, because she said nothing.

“An afternoon of rest and a light supper, then early to bed, and she’ll be good as new,” Yugoda continued.

“And tomorrow?”

“She’s fine to resume normal activity tomorrow,” Yugoda said as she picked up her jar and stood to leave.

“Well,” said Mama uncertainly, “if you’re sure.”

“Oh, yes, dearie. As a matter of fact, I’ve been meaning to talk with you. The princess is healthier than she’s ever been, and could benefit from an increase in normal play. Only in the sunshine, when the weather is clear and not too cold, and not too much of course. A gradual build-up, to say an hour or two a day.”

Mama looked unhappy, and she crossed her arms, but all she said was, “We’ll discuss it more when summer comes.”

“Of course, dearie. You’ve certainly got enough to manage right now. I’ll be seeing you both tomorrow. Good afternoon, dearie. Good afternoon, little princess.”

“Good afternoon, Healer Yugoda,” Yue said brightly.

“Good afternoon,” mumbled Mama. She frowned at the doorway after Yugoda was gone.

“Mama, are you okay?” Yue asked after a long moment.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, sweetheart, I’m fine.” She turned to Yue. “We still have a good bit of time before supper, so I want you to close your eyes and rest.”

Reluctantly, Yue settled back into her pillows. “Mama? Will you read me a story? Like you did when I was a little girl?”

“You’re still a little girl.” Mama sat on the bed and put her arm around Yue. “Which story do you want?”

Yue snuggled into her mother. “The one about the old woman who adopts an ice bear.”

“I’ve told you that one so many times that I know it by heart,” Mama said. She began the story, and Yue closed her eyes. One day she would tell this story to her own children, she vowed to herself.

Dinner that evening was tense. Papa was pretending that he wasn’t upset with Mama, and Mama was stewing over her fight with Aunt Manami. Yue sipped delicately at her bone broth and tried to act like she didn’t notice anything was wrong. How long did she need to wait before she could ask to be excused?

“Yue,” said Papa, breaking the silence, “I hear that Healer Yugoda is most pleased with your health, and she’s recommending more exercise for you.”

“She is,” Yue agreed, trying hard not to smile.

“That’s wonderful news.” His own smile was broad and warm.

“Nothing’s been decided yet,” Mama interjected. “We’ll revisit the matter later, after the Fire Navy leaves and the weather improves.”

Papa’s smile vanished at the mention of the Fire Nation. His mouth tightened and a vein in his neck bulged, but his voice remained even. “How are the preparations for tomorrow going, Ummi? I hear you’ve outdone yourself.”

“Everything is going smoothly, thank you,” Mama answered primly. “You’ll have your perfect Water Tribe celebration, and the foreigners will have no cause for complaint.”

Papa relaxed a bit, and selected a mussel. Yue sipped more of her broth, savoring the saltiness of it. She hadn’t realized how anxious she’d been about the feast tomorrow until now. It was as if her insides were all bunched up, wondering what sort of scene might happen. Yue let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, and she felt much better.

“Of course,” Mama grumbled, “they’re lucky Princess Yue will be well enough to attend after what happened with that awful boy today.”

Papa dropped his mussel to the table with a clatter so loud that Yue startled and spilled half of her broth. Her eyes darted from Papa to Mama, and back again.

“Ummi, don’t start.” Papa closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have enough going on right now without worrying about you causing more problems.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Arnook. I’ve done everything that’s been asked of me.”

“You _grudgingly_ do as you’re asked, but you’ve made your disapproval abundantly clear. To everyone, not just me,” Papa said. “I heard what happened this afternoon. Accusing the little Fire Nation prince of deliberately harming Princess Yue, Ummi? Really? And now you want to further insult them by suggesting she not attend tomorrow? Are you trying to sabotage this engagement and bring the war straight to our doorstep?”

Mama flushed in anger. “Of course, I don’t want an invasion, Arnook, but you weren’t there today! How dare you sit there and accuse me of making trouble. You should have seen her, all red-faced and out of breath. And that boy—did you know that he’s a firebender? He attacked Hahn!”

“He didn’t!” Yue exclaimed. “Hahn was shoving him into a snowbank, so he melted it, that’s all Papa.”

“Calm down, Yue, don’t get excited,” Papa said, not taking his eyes off of Mama. He breathed deeply and rubbed his forehead. “Ummi, I don’t approve of what went on this afternoon either, but no lasting harm was done. You need to let this go.”

Mama opened her mouth to protest, but before she could make a sound Papa said firmly, “That is a command, as your chief, and as your husband. Do I make myself clear?”

Stunned, Mama nodded.

“Good. I’m already dealing with the Fire Nation, Ujarak is insisting that I have personally and deliberately insulted him by dangling Yue’s hand in front of his son only to snatch it away, and the council of elders squabble over everything. I will not tolerate this sort of behavior from my wife. I’ve tried to be respectful of your feelings, Ummi, but I cannot allow this to continue.”

Yue had never heard Papa use such a harsh tone of voice, and he’d never commanded Mama to do anything before. A long moment stretched between them, as the whole family sat frozen around the dinner table, only the distant sound of the waves breaking the silence.

“Yue,” Mama finally said as she looked out of the window, “finish your food and get ready for bed, please. You need your rest for the big day tomorrow.” Her eyes were bright and shiny, but no tears fell. She turned to Papa and asked, “May I go now, Chief Arnook?”

Papa’s expression softened. “Ummi, I’m truly sorry,” he murmured. “Please, can we just…” He reached for her hand, but Mama flinched and turned away.

“May I go?” she repeated.

He pulled his hand back, and his face fell. “Yes,” he whispered.

Mama marched out of the room with cold dignity, her gaze fixed firmly ahead. Papa watched her go with regret.

“Papa? Are you okay?” Yue asked in a small voice.

He dragged his hands down his face and sighed deeply. “I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said in a dull, flat tone.

“But—”

“Yue. Don’t worry about me. Everything will be all right. You just concentrate on staying healthy, okay?”

“Okay.” Yue didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want anymore broth, but she didn’t want to go to bed, either. So, she lingered at the table with Papa, wishing she could think of something to make everything better.

“Do as your mother says, now, and go get ready for bed. I’ll be up to say goodnight in a little while.”

Yue went to the doorway, but instead of leaving, she turned to look back at her father. He sat with his shoulders hunched, staring blankly at the remains of the evening meal. _Poor Papa, he’s doing his best._ He didn’t ask for the Fire Nation to come here.

She dashed to him, threw her arms around his shoulders, and gave him a quick kiss. His beard was rough and scratchy. Papa startled at first, then he hugged her back. “I love you, Papa.”

“I love you too, darling girl.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Now off to bed with you.”

Yue hurried out of the room, down the hallway, and up the stairs to her bedroom. She readied herself for bed quickly, then settled in bed with a book to wait for her father.

She tried to read, but she couldn’t make herself focus. Her mind kept drifting back to the afternoon. Yue couldn’t remember the last time she’d had that much fun, and she hoped with all of her heart that Healer Yugoda was successful in convincing her mother.

Thinking of Mama made her feel guilty, though. How could she be happy about something that upset her mother so much? But on the other hand, she wasn’t a baby anymore. She was eleven years old, more than old enough to decide some things for herself, and she was tired of people treating her like some fragile thing that might shatter at any moment.

And then there was the whole business with Hahn.

“Ugh!” she yelled, and threw her book across the room. It hit the wall just as Papa walked in.

He looked at the book lying on the sealskin on the floor, then raised his eyebrows at Yue. “Is something wrong?”

Embarrassed at her outburst, Yue’s cheeks flushed bright red. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled.

Papa bent to pick up the book and re-shelved it before sitting next to her on the bed. “You yelled and threw your book across the room over nothing? That’s not like you, Yue. Come on, tell your papa what’s wrong.”

Yue toyed with the edge of her blankets, not sure what she should say. She didn’t want to cause her father any more trouble. She looked down at her lap, letting her unbound hair fall loose around her face, shielding her from Papa’s searching blue eyes.

But he wouldn’t let her hide. He gently lifted her chin up with his fingers, and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Yue, please, talk to me. Whatever it is, I promise I won’t be mad.”

She bit her lip. “You won’t tell Mama, will you?”

“No, sweetheart, not if you don’t want me to.” He smoothed her hair some more. “Is this about what happened this afternoon? I’m sorry you had to see that; it must have been upsetting for you.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I wish that I could protect you from all of this.”

“Papa, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the prince firebending at Hahn. It must have been a frightening sight.”

“That’s not it. Prince Zuko didn’t firebend at Hahn,” she said. How many times did she have to say it? “Hahn pushed Zuko into a snowbank and was holding him down. I was pulling on Hahn as hard as I could, but he wouldn’t let go! Prince Zuko melted the snow so he could get away. Hahn lied to Mama about what happened. She wouldn’t even listen to me, and she wouldn’t even let the prince talk at all. She blames him for me skipping lessons, but playing outside was _my idea_.”

Papa looked thoughtful. “Yue, I believe that it was your idea, but you shouldn’t have done it. Your mother and I take your health very seriously, and I need you to promise me that nothing like this will happen again. At least not until you have been given express permission. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” she said sadly. Why wouldn’t anybody listen to her? She could feel tears of frustration forming, and she blinked them away.

Papa’s strong arms circled her in a hug. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you, okay? I promise you can be more active when Yugoda says you’re ready.”

Yue couldn’t stop the tears any more, so she buried her face in Papa’s chest and cried. He rubbed her back and shushed her. “I’m so sorry, Yue. I’m sorry that you have to be in the middle of my arguments with your mother. And I’m sorry that you have to deal with the Fire Nation, and that you can’t just be a normal little girl.”

She until Papa’s clothes were damp, then pulled away from him and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “That’s not why I’m crying,” she sniffed. “Well, that’s partly why, but there’s more to it.”

“I see. Would you like to tell me what else is bothering you?” When she didn’t say anything, Papa sighed. “Yue, darling, I can’t make it better if I don’t know what it is.”

“But you can’t make it better!” she wailed. “Mama wanted me to marry Hahn, but I don’t like Hahn! He’s awful, but she doesn’t see it. All she sees is a boy from a good family with important connections. You liked him, too. Neither of you really know what he’s like. He’s rude, and conceited, and he never listens to anybody because he thinks he’s better than everyone else. He’s boring, too. And today he revealed himself to be a bully on top of everything else. I’ve tried to tell Mama, but she won’t hear a word against him.”

The worlds tumbled out of her in a rush, before she could second-guess herself. It was as if a dam had broken inside of her, and all of the feelings she’d kept pushed deep down inside flowed out like a great river. “I don’t like Hahn, but I do like the prince. He’s sweet and he actually listens when I talk. I taught him how to play pai sho, and he gave me a gift, see?” She stretched out and picked up her shell from the niche in the wall where it rested.

Papa took it from her and turned it this way and that, examining all sides. “It’s lovely.” He gave the shell back to Yue, and she put it back in its place.

“We had fun this afternoon,” she admitted softly. “Then Hahn just showed up and started talking about how offended his father was by you breaking our betrothal that never existed in the first place. He said awful things, and he wouldn’t leave me alone. Prince Zuko stood up to him, and then they started fighting, even though I _told_ them not to. That’s when Mama and Aunt Manami found us.”

Her throat tightened. “Mama hates him,” she whispered. “He didn’t do anything except be born Fire Nation, and she hates him for it. She won’t change her mind.” Yue squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “She’ll be so mad at me if she finds out that I would choose him over Hahn. I don’t want her to hate me, too.”

Papa pulled her into his lap like he used to do when she was little. He tucked her head beneath his chin and held her tight, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Oh, my darling girl. I _promise_ you, Mama could _never_ hate you. She’s just hurting right now. Your mother is afraid for you, and she’s letting that fear get the better of her. It’s causing her to use poor judgement, but try not to let it bother you. Mama is angry at me, not you. She will come around.”

“No, she won’t. She won’t listen to anybody.”

“She will,” Papa insisted. “You’re a smart girl, Yue. If you approve of the fire prince, then that’s good enough for me. Give Mama some time; she will come to see it eventually.”

Yue looked up into Papa’s face. “Do you really think so, Papa?”

“Yes,” he said. “We both just want you to be safe and happy. As long as that happens, your mother will accept it.”

Oh, how she hoped Papa was right. It would be such a relief not to feel like she was letting someone down all the time. Being pulled in so many directions had left her feeling exhausted, and she found that she was actually glad to be going to bed right after supper. She squeezed Papa in a quick little hug, then she slid down from his lap onto her bed and fluffed her pillows.

“Do you feel better now, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Much better,” she sighed.

Papa stood up and covered her with the blankets. “I’m so glad. This little talk has made me feel better, too.”

“It has?”

“Yes. It’s given me hope that you can have a happy future.”

Yue smiled at that. “Thanks for listening, Papa. I’m happy that you’re not so sad anymore.”

Papa leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You can always talk to me, Yue. Good night, my little princess. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”

“Good night, Papa.” Yue watched him go, then she snuggled down deeper into her pillows and pulled the furs tightly around her shoulders. The thought of getting married and going to live halfway around the world was still scary, but now she felt hopeful, too. Maybe she could be happy _and_ do what was best for her people.

The feast celebrating the union of the Northern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation was held outside, under a brilliant blue sky. Thin white clouds scuttled overhead, and the snow glittered in the sunlight. The large square courtyard was filled to bursting with important members of Utuqaq society, as well as the ranked officers accompanying Princess Ursa and her son. Common soldiers and the rest of the tribe were to be feasted, too, in the large open area between the palace and the guest huts, as well as various plazas throughout the city.

Yue stood in a shadowy area between two totems, waiting to make her entrance. She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet, craning her neck in an effort to spot familiar faces in the crowd. She could see Aunt Senna and her husband, surrounded by their small sons. Aunt Yukiko was seated on the other end of the courtyard, between her husband and Grandpa, whose thick white eyebrows were knitted together in a frown. Grandma was sitting on his other side, one of her hands clasped in both of his. Did Grandpa know that Mama and Aunt Manami had argued? Was that why he looked so irritated?

Yue didn’t see Aunt Manami anywhere. She had to be there somewhere, though. Aunt Manami would want to be there for Yue, she was sure of it. Maybe she was just trying to avoid bumping into Mama, so she sat somewhere inconspicuous. Yue hoped they made up soon.

Yue turned a little towards the right, hoping to be able to see the people seated on the dais. Mama and Papa were there, she knew, and Princess Ursa and Prince Zuko, but she couldn’t actually see them from where she was standing. Yue prayed everything would go smoothly today. The Fire Nation princess had been gracious enough to Yue and Mama yesterday, but Yue knew she had been very angry, as well.

She turned the other way. Hahn sat with his arms crossed, a slightly miffed look on his face. His father, Ujarak, was whispering with some other men. Yue remembered what her father said. Was he trying to stir up trouble?

A gentle hand came down on her shoulder. “Be still, Princess. Your father will announce you soon.”

Yue plastered on a smile for her mother’s handmaiden and forced herself to stand still. She wished Papa would hurry up, this waiting was impossible!

Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, the crowd quieted. “Today, we celebrate the coming together of two nations in peace,” Papa’s voice rang out over the crowd. “We celebrate the beginning of a prosperous future, a future where our children and grandchildren will flourish, knowing they are safe and secure. And, to seal the bond of friendship between our peoples, we celebrate the engagement of my daughter, Princess Yue, to Fire Lord Azulon’s grandson, Prince Zuko.”

That was her cue. She blew out a nervous breath and shook out her hands before tucking them neatly into her sleeves. She made sure to smile as she stepped out into the sunlight, handmaidens a few steps behind her, as the gathered crowd clapped politely. “Thank you, Father.”

Yue looked over at the dais. It was a smaller version of the one in her father’s throne room, without the elaborate arch. Papa stood in the middle of the upper tier, his arm stretched out towards her. Mama knelt on the far-right side, a carefully neutral expression on her face, but she wore her finest clothes, including her fan-shaped blue and white headpiece, the one that signified her status as wife of the chief. She hadn’t worn that since Papa had agreed to the alliance with the Fire Nation. The empty space between them would be occupied by Master Pakku later. On Papa’s other side was Princess Ursa, looking perfectly pleased, in contrast to the Fire Nation admiral seated to her left, who peered out at the crowd with eyes narrowed in suspicion as he stroked his long thin beard.

“May the great ocean and moon spirits bless us all, and may the friendship between our nations last for one thousand years.” Her voice was strong and clear.

Prince Zuko was seated on the lower level of the dais, below his mother, looking a little lost and out of place, but he smiled shyly at her when she caught his eye, and he was wearing the parka she’d given him. Yue smiled back at him, a real smile, not the polite but impersonal kind she usually wore during public appearances.

“On behalf of my father the chief,” she continued, “and the people of the Northern Water Tribe, I am honored to accept Prince Zuko, grandson of Fire Lord Azulon, as my betrothed.” Princess Yue dipped her head in acknowledgement of the applause, and made her way to her seat next to the prince.

Papa was announcing Master Pakku and some of his more advanced students; they had put together a performance designed to entertain and please they eye, while also showcasing their bending skills.

Yue didn’t care about that, though. She turned to Zuko. “I’m so pleased you wore it.”

“Huh?” he scrunched up his face in confusion. “Oh, the parka! Of course, I wore it,” he grinned. “You gave it to me, and anyway, I wouldn’t want to spend the entire afternoon outside without it.”

“I just thought that, maybe, after yesterday…” She dropped her gaze to the tabletop, where servants were placing platters of food. “Well, with all of the awful things that Hahn said, that…well…you wouldn’t want to wear it anymore.”

She shouldn’t have even given to him in the first place, she should have taken the time to go find a boy’s parka. She hadn’t, though, because she’d known if she had then she would have been sent off to lessons and missed her chance to play. She’d been selfish. Yue had known she was breaking the rules, and what would happen if she’d gotten caught, and she’d still done it anyway.

“Prince Zuko, please let me apologize again for Hahn’s behavior. He was completely out of line yesterday.” She swallowed nervously. “And I want to apologize for my mother, too. She shouldn’t have blamed you for what happened. Please, don’t hold her behavior against us. She’s very protective of me. I’m her only child, and I nearly died when I was born. She’s afraid of losing me, I think, but my father says she’ll come around,” Yue explained. “Everything that happened yesterday was all my fault, and I am so sorry.” She looked up into his face. “Was your mother terribly angry?”

He gaped at her. “Are you kidding? None of that stuff that happened yesterday was your fault. Hahn is a big dumb jerk, and your mom just wants to make sure you’re okay. Even if she was kind of scary and reminded me of an angry turtle-duck,” he mumbled to himself. “Mom was a bit upset about the fight, but she was mostly just scared because I snuck off. So, it’s my fault, really. If I had just stayed put like I was supposed to, then nobody would be mad.” The prince looked down at his hands, folded awkwardly in his lap. After a moment he turned to Yue. “I’m sorry, Princess,” he said in a small voice. “I didn’t know you might get sick just from playing outside.”

Princess Yue let out a frustrated huff. “Don’t be sorry; I _wanted_ to go with you. And besides, Healer Yugoda says more outdoor exercise will be good for me.”

“Oh, uh, well, that’s good, then.” Prince Zuko’s face was bright red as he gulped water from his cup, then sputtered as he choked on it.

She leaned forward in concern. “Are you okay?” she asked, hand raised ready to pat him on the back.

Zuko coughed and set down the cup with a forceful _clank_. He grimaced and ran both of his hands down his face. “I’m fine,” he groaned into his palms. When he lowered them, his eyes were fixed firmly in Master Pakku’s general direction.

Yue watched the waterbenders for a little while, too, to give the prince some time to compose himself. They moved together as one, graceful and fluid, as they manipulated large spheres of water overhead.

She could feel someone’s gaze on her back. Yue shifted slightly in her seat and glanced behind her shoulder. It was just as she thought it would be. Mama was watching her like a fox-hawk, and she was not at all pleased to see her daughter’s empty plate.

Remembering her promise to Yugoda, Yue started choosing which of the many dishes she wanted. Papa was right, Mama really _had_ outdone herself. There were dozens of dishes: seaweed noodles floating in hot broth, seaweed dumplings and fermented turtle-seal flippers. There were razor-thin slices of frozen saltwater fish with both whale and seal oil for dipping, raw turtle-seal ribs, and sorrel and fireweed, and sweet berries mixed with fat that had been whipped until it was light and airy. There were salt-crusted prawns and pickled fish and thick smoked reindeer-oxen sausages. There were fresh raw oysters in pearly shells, squid sauced with a stock made from dried fish, kelp, and just a dash of its own ink, and there were delicious, savory yet also slightly sweet fermented fish heads. Ooh, she definitely wanted some of those.

She took some ribs and pickled fish, too, and sorrel, and also a scoop of berries, which were a special treat not served very often. She glanced at Zuko, who was just sort of staring at his empty plate.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Yue gestured to one of the bowls of hot broth. “Why don’t you have some soup? It will keep you nice and warm,” she teased.

“I can’t. There’s no spoon.”

Yue furrowed her brow. “Of course not, it’s already been dished out into individual bowls.”

“No,” he said, “not a serving spoon. A smaller spoon, to eat with.”

Confused, she asked, “Why do you want a small spoon to eat with? All of the noodles would fall right off. It doesn’t seem very practical.”

“You don’t use a spoon for the noodles; it’s for the broth.”

“Just—look, like this.” She picked up a bowl and quickly slurped up a mouthful of seaweed noodles. When she finished, she smacked her lips and grinned at him. “See? Easy.”

Prince Zuko put his own bowl to his lips and tried to copy her. At first, he could only sip the broth, but eventually he managed to capture a few noodles. They rose slow and halting from their bowl, instead of gliding upwards in one smooth, easy motion as Yue’s had.

“Well?” she prompted. “What do you think?”

He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “They’re different from the noodles back home. I think it’s the texture, it’s strange somehow.”

Yue frowned. “Okay, so try something else, then.” She passed him the dish of fish heads. “These are really tasty.”

He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell, only for a second, and then he straightened his features into something more polite, but she still noticed. Yue snatched them back and placed them on her other side, as far away from the prince as she could reach. “Never mind. I guess Fire Nation people wouldn’t appreciate them.”

“Princess Yue? Are you okay?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’m fine,” she said firmly, then she took a big bite of pickled fish so that she wouldn’t have to say anything else. She didn’t know why her feelings were hurt. It was stupid. Who cared if he didn’t like a dish? Yue certainly didn’t.

But she’d been so happy yesterday when he’d loved the seal jerky, and she was excited to share more of her favorite things with him. And now it felt like he hated everything.

There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence.

Zuko cleared his throat. “So, uh, what do you think I should try?”

It was nice that he was trying to make her feel better. Yue thought for a moment. He had enjoyed the seal jerky, so seal meat was probably a good place to start. She suggested the turtle-seal ribs. Yue decided that she wouldn’t suggest the flippers. They were fermented, like the fish heads, and so had a strong smell and robust flavor. Perhaps they were an acquired taste, and he could work up to them in the future.

“How do I eat these? With my hands?”

She nodded. “You just pull the meat off with your teeth.”

He picked up a rib and examined it carefully before nibbling off a small piece. “It’s not like the jerky, but it’s not bad at all.” He tore off a bigger chunk. “Actually, it’s pretty good.”

Yue smiled and started on her own ribs. Prince Zuko turned to her when he finished his. There was a smear of blood on his nose. She swallowed her food quickly and tried to suppress a giggle at the sight.

“What?”

“Your nose. Here, may I?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she rubbed the blood off with her thumb.

He scrubbed at his nose with his sleeve and pulled away from her. His hands were red and sticky with seal blood. “Do people eat everything with their hands here?”

“Pretty much,” Yue confirmed.

“Ugh, but it’s so messy!” Zuko exclaimed.

Yue shrugged. “You just wipe off your hands when you’re done, it’s no big deal. Why don’t you know this stuff already, anyway? You’ve all been here for a week. Haven’t you been eating this whole time?”

Prince Zuko reached for a second rib. “We’ve eaten, but it’s pretty much been fleet provisions, and we always have spoons and chopsticks. I guess I just thought everyone used them.”

“Sticks? The Fire Nation eats with sticks?” Yue blurted out. Her jaw dropped in surprise, and she snapped it shut again. “Do you poke the food with the stick and eat it off that?”

“Only street foods are actually served on sticks, or things at festivals when people are walking around,” he explained. “At sit-down meals, you use chopsticks. They’re not sharp like a skewer. They can be wood, or ivory, or bamboo. You hold two of them in your right hand, and you move them around to sort of pinch the food. Then you bring it up to your mouth and eat it.”

“Is that how you would eat noodles in a soup?” she asked, thinking of the awkward attempts to slurp them. He nodded.

“It sounds complicated.”

“No, it’s easy, I promise.” Zuko smiled at her, and she smiled back.

She turned away, and clapped with the others as Master Pakku and his students finished their performance. “Your face looks much better today,” she said. “It’s a lot less swollen.”

He touched his lip and looked away from her, his cheeks dusted with pink. “Thanks, it feels better.”

Yue suggested he try the sea prunes next, which he said tasted a bit like something called ocean kumquat. He told her that sailors ate them on long voyages.

He ended up tasting quite a few dishes before the end of the feast, and while he certainly didn’t like everything, there were plenty that met his approval.

He liked the fireweed, but not the sorrel. He didn’t care for the dumplings or pickled fish, but enjoyed the prawns and sausages and frozen fish dipped in oil. He tasted and hated the raw oysters and the whale blubber, but loved the roasted reindeer-oxen and stewed ptarmigan.

“I’m stuffed,” he announced, leaning dramatically back in his seat. “There’s no way I could eat another bite.” He waved away the berry mixture she was offering.

“Come on, it’s delicious. Please? I promise you won’t have to try another thing,” she wheedled.

He looked apprehensively at the spoonful of whipped fat and berries that she held out. “Fine.”

Yue grinned in victory as she deposited them onto his plate.

He took a very small bite and sighed. “They’re very good,” he admitted, “but I can’t eat them. I’m afraid if I did that my stomach might actually explode.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” she laughed, “so I suppose I won’t make you finish them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, readers, it's been a long time! Thank you so much to everyone who read and/or left kudos and comments! I appreciate each and every one of them. They are always such a bright spot in my day. Hopefully there won't be such a long wait between chapters this time.

**Author's Note:**

> I am strictly interested in the original show, so I didn't take anything from the comics (like the search) into account when I wrote this story. I also haven't seen Legend of Korra, so the same applies for that.  
> Also, the canon time-line makes no sense. Canon has Ursa's grandma in her seventies when her mom was born, so I've added a generation (so Roku and Sozin are Zuko and Azula's great-great-grandfathers).


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